Forbidden Ground
by Redfern
Summary: The second war is at the doorstep and a very unexpected and forbidden desire springs up between enemy families, at Hogwarts year five. Hot slash, warning for incestous rape and pairing Draco with Neville. Enjoy the show! And...COMPLETED!
1. Legacy

**FORBIDDEN GROUND**  
  
This story is set at the beginning of the fifth year at Hogwarts. And I own nothing.  
Read, enjoy and hold the flames in check, please. This is a virgin fan-fic...  
hungry smile

**CHAPTER ONE: LEGACY  
**

_A pretty little altar boy  
__Daddy's little pride and joy   
__A warning signal from above   
__A place where sinners fall in love   
__They say that opposites attract   
__How very strange  
__Black on black_   
-Dalbello-  
  
Draco's parents could not have selected a more unsuitable day for the biggest quarrel of the year. The atmosphere inside the Malfoy manor was something akin to that of a thunderstorm and the train to Hogwarts was leaving in just a few hours. Draco sat on his bed, sulking with arms crossed and his delicate lower lip pouting, staring darkly into thin air.   
His luggage had been packed (naturally not by himself) early in the morning and Draco had been heading down for the breakfast table full of expectations and with some plans to persuade his parents into buying him a departing gift. The horrible mood clinging over the dining hall, however, had spelled out an ominous message. Draco had been sent up to his room by his father almost immediatly and a house elf had presented Draco with his breakfast. Since almost an hour back, Draco had been listening to the angry voices of his mother Narcissa and his father Lucius. Their shouts echoed all the way up to Draco's room, despite the size of the family mansion. He let out a sigh of growing impatience. Yet he would never get the idea to go downstairs and remind them of the train he needed to catch. Nobody interrupted Lucius Malfoy in a bad mood. Draco had done that, being a lot younger and more naive about his father, and he had lived to tell a tale he would never share with anyone.  
  
It took another hour before the voices had died out and the determined, familiar steps were heard outside his room. The door flew open and Draco's father stood dressed in his black outdoor robes in the doorway, carrying his intimidating walking stick in one hand and resting the other hand at the doorpost. Elegant in posture, but beaming with silent fury. Draco rose from his bed immediatly, ready to follow the slightest command his father might have. He knew better than to look nervous as well. If there was but one thing that would enflame his fathers temper even more, it would be seeing weakness in his son´s face. Draco settled for his usual cold and attentive look.  
"Ready, Draco?"   
"Yes, father."   
"Off we go then." Lucius said, almost in a whisper, as if the hours of bellowing at his wife had deprived his sharp and demanding voice of its edge.  
Lucius turned and strode down the corridor, making but a slight gesture to the house elves that would carry Draco's luggage down the stairs. Draco followed at a quick pace and as they reached the front doors in the great hallway, Narcissa was waiting there to say goodbye. Her icy pearl eyes shot a poisonous and calculating glance at her husband, before she leaned forward to embrace Draco. Draco returned the embrace with relief. He could always count on his mother to soothe any pangs of fear his father might give him. To see Lucius in the company of an equal in terror, made his authority a bit less frightening. Draco felt his mother's smooth silvery hair touch his cheek and then she planted a light kiss on his forehead, while something was pressed into his right hand.   
"Have a good journey, my son. Promise to write."  
"Yes mother." Draco answered, keeping any strong emotion at a distance as usual.  
Lucius showed his impatience openly, but it only made Narcissa take her time with Draco. Finally, she waved them off, smiling softly and exchanging murderous glances with her husband. Draco opened his hand to see what she had given him. Ten shining galleons lay pressed in his palm. Ah. The compensation for his rotten morning. He bitterly put them into his black leather pouch and once they were alone, Lucius turned to face him, regaining his authorative voice. "Draco, there is something I need you to do. Pay attention."  
Draco straightened up and looked very attentive. He did this automatically by now, as if being programmed of how to respond to his fathers every whim. Sadly, it lay very close to the truth.   
"I need you to keep an extra eye on Harry Potter this year, Draco. It is of outmost importance that any strange idea this whelp and his associates might come up with is reported to me at once. Understand?"   
"Yes father." Draco said with his most loyal and devoted voice.   
"Anything from monster hunts in the pipes to mapping out the behaviours of the kitchen elves." "Yes, father."  
"Very good."   
Draco was rewarded with the slightest of smiles, but it made Dracos horrible morning worth the entire misery. Appreciations from his father was very rare and therefore all the more obtainable. Despite the cruel discipline and the heavy weight of too high expectations Lucius put on him, Draco loved his father. He admired him and would do anything to live up to what Lucius wanted him to be, even though it meant becoming an exact replica of Lucius himself.  
  
The platform 9 ¾ was seething with a most colourful crowd. Cages with owls, cats and other familiars were jostling with frightened first years, broomsticks and heavy luggage. Parents were taking farewell of their progenies and the conductors did their best to usher the students on to the train. Draco swept his gaze over the scene. As many of the other fifth years, he was interested in finding the familiar faces and see what had become of them over the holidays. And he was especially eager to show his father what a star position he held in the Slytherin house. Lucius knew, of course. There was very little that Lucius didn't keep under constant watch, concerning his son. But Draco felt a demonstration was needed to please his father as much as possible. In the crowd, he quickly spotted the brute appearances of Crabbe and Goyle with parents. They caught sight of him and Lucius almost immediatly and hurried towards them. Draco was beaming as Crabbe and Goyle junior bowed to Lucius and then gave a polite half-nod to himself.   
"Good to see you, Malfoy." Crabbe reeled.   
"How was your holidays?" Goyle finished, as if in perfect symbiose with Crabbe.   
"Rather well, thank you." Draco answered in his most gracious voice, checking in the corner of his eye that his father was watching their submission to him.  
But Lucius had engaged himself cooly in a conversation with Crabbe and Goyle senior, assuming the same position as Draco towards his company. Draco grew all the more desperate for his father's attention. The train was leaving soon and this was his last chance to collect some precious approvement from Malfoy senior. Annoyed, Dracos gaze jumped around every corner of the platform. Pansy Parkinson and her mother had also gathered around them and sought Dracos attention, but to no avail. Draco had found what he needed. There were, after all, two students left on the platform not accompanied by parents. The strange company that had escorted Potter to the train were gone, including the black scabby dog, and Potter was engaged in a hilarious setting. It seemed that the Gryffindor orphans Longbottom and Potter was making a united effort to catch Longbottom's stupid toad, which obviously had escaped its owner. Ron Weasley was hanging out the window of his compartment, urging them on, anxious about the train's departure closing in. It was as if Draco's every prayer had been heard. The scene looked quite comical and attained all the elements Draco would possible need as raw material for any sarcasm.  
"Look!" Smiling, Draco pointed his finger towards the spectacle.   
Within moments, the entire crowd of Slytherins had noticed the two hunting Gryffindors. The thin, pale Potter making daring maneuvers as if he was in the middle of a Quidditch game, throwing himself at the ground, his crow black hair in a mess. His big glasses had slided down to the tip of his nose. And Longbottom. Scared, confused Longbottom stumbling over his own robes in his effort to keep up with Potter. Like Potter, Longbottom had grown taller over the summer, almost to match Draco's own height. Most of Longbottom's babylike round features were gone. His jawbones were visible and added an adult touch to the innocent composure of his face. Only Longbottom's warm brown eyes, carrying the weight of too many horrors for someone in his age, revealed the opposite of his appearance. Draco threw a glance at his father. Lucius was clearly amused by the events, maliciously content with seeing Potter on all fours, trying to hold on to the slimy toad. Fueled with confidence, Draco grasped the opportunity. "Hey Potter!" he shouted, with thriumphant contempt in his voice. "That's a suitable training for a Gryffindor seeker!"   
The crowd around Draco immediatly began to laugh. He thought he heard even a silent laughter from his father, being all the reward he needed to go on as far as he could go.   
"Shut it, Malfoy!" Ron bellowed from his window.   
"Stick your nose inside, _weasel_! The toad might bite it off!" Draco answered.   
Again, came the reward of laughter. But the toad had been caught and Draco had a limited amount of time to smash the Gryffindor frog hunters with crushing remarks. Potter had entered the train, ignoring the Slytherins, and Ron had followed Draco's clever suggestion and moved away from the window. But Longbottom was trying to make his way past their little crowd, cheeks red, with an uncomfortable look on his face and Draco seized the moment perfectly.  
"What's the matter, Longbottom? Couldn't your parents be granted a leave from the hospital to see you off? Bet they'd have to be chased all around the platform!"   
Crabbe and Goyle positively roared with laughter and Pansy had to dry her eyes due to the tears spilling from her fun. Lucius laid an appreciating hand at his son's shoulder and smiled viciously at Longbottom. But Draco had a strange knot in his stomach, feeling oddly uncomfortable with the situation. Neville stopped short before them, eyes widening and his mouth opening as if he was about to speak. His cheeks glowed even redder and Draco realised that the truth about Nevilles parents probably wasn't a public knowledge. Neville's lips curled into a grim expression and a hurt and hateful glare struck Draco. Still, the gaze returned from Malfoy senior made Neville avert his eyes very quickly and with trembling fingers he grasped the handle of the stairs leading into the train, disappearing from sight in a heartbeat.  
"Ah, the offspring of the weak."   
That was Lucius speaking, his voice filled with satisfaction. Draco found it very strange that his inner self didn't cheer wildly at his victory on showing off in front of his father. But there was no time to reflect over the matter. The train whistle blew and the Slytherins climbed on board, Draco with a slight pat on his shoulder from Lucius. That was as much physical affection his father ever showed him. Soon enough, Draco was in his own kingdom amongst his fellow Slytherins and London disappeared in the misty morning behind them.  
  
The journey to Hogwarts contained some unpleasant events that was to give Dracos fifth year an unexpected turn. As usual, Draco was holding court at the train, making sure that even the first years knew who he was, should they end up in Slytherin. After all, Draco had received his Prefect badge this year and had to prepare for an even stronger reign over his house, and of course, over the school. Pansy was making passes at him as the rest of the Slytherin girls, but Draco brushed them off with ease, paying little attention to their fruitless attempts. Before taking his seat, he had taken a turn to the Gryffindor compartment to taunt Potter about the Prefect thing. It had gone fairly well and given him new materials to slander Potter for hours.   
Once the candy wagon had passed and the entire compartment was feasting on all kinds of magical treats, Draco decided to stretch his legs and take a walk along the train corridor. He never ate sweets except at holidays (including the day when Voldemort rose to power, which was secretly celebrated at his home) just as his father had taught him. He rose from his seat and Crabbe and Goyle followed at once, stuffing their pockets full with as much sweets that they could contain. Draco found it amazing that they took their places by his side for granted, despite the impatience he had with them. The thickness of his companions would probably never stop surprising him.   
The trio set off, Draco taking the lead with an unexplainable pull towards the Gryffindor compartments. As they went past the older members of the Gryffindor house, most of them ignored Draco and his little team. Then came a sight that made Draco stop in his tracks. He could see through the glass windows of a compartment how Potter, Weasley and the know-it-all, arrogant mudblood Granger sat in the company of Neville, looking very serious and engaged in discussion. Something was obviously happening here. Had they started to plot their wild rulebreaking already? Then Draco realised that Neville looked devastated, keeping his eyes at his lap where the unruly toad rested, while wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Neville was crying! Draco couldn't put his finger on why he had to get in there or even what intentions that lay behind it, but he swung the door open and put on the same malicious look his father displayed so well.  
At least his purpose looked clear enough to everyone in sight.  
"Get out, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, giving him a threatening stare.  
"Well, I didn't realise it was a crying party at the Gryffindors!" Draco shot back. Crabbe and Goyle made some grotesque laughing sounds. Harry and Ron got to their feet, grasping their wands angrily. Especially Potter looked almost out of his mind with fury, which was an unfamiliar sight. Neville looked up, straight at Draco, with an unreadable gaze. His dark eyes were glittering with cold resentment, his face resolute. He rose from his seat as well, while Potter opened his mouth to eliviate the anger.   
"If you don't leave him alone, Malfoy, I'll..."  
"You'll do what exactly, Potter?" Draco cut in."Get yourself killed like the rest of your miserable family?"  
That became the signal to complete turmoil. Potter flew right at Draco in a searing rage, pushing him with such force into the glass window that shards exploded in a great splinting noise around him. Draco was in complete shock, but tried to reach for his wand beneath his robes, despite the stinging ache from the inpact.   
"YOU'LL DIE FOR THAT, MALFOY!" Potter yelled.   
Draco could hear Granger's voice urging Harry with a far too reasoning voice to stop. But Harry had lifted his wand before Draco had his in a proper position. Crabbe and Goyle who tried to come to the rescue, was held back by the united efforts of alerted Gryffindors.  
"NO!"   
Draco wasn't sure about who had shouted, but Neville had suddenly grabbed a hold of Potters arms, throwing him off from Draco. Potter landed hard on the floor, sending some shards flying. The scene froze in silence for a very uncomfortable second. Potter sat on the floor gasping for breath, Ron and the Weasley twins along with Hermione were holding Crabbe and Goyle back and Neville stood gazing down at Draco, who had sunken down against the wooden wall beneath the broken window.  
Draco could feel the delayed pain creeping up his spine and entering his head with small explosions. Something warm and sticky was running down the back of his head. Then Neville spoke, surprisingly, never taking his cold eyes away from Draco.  
"Leave it, Harry. He's not worth it."   
"But he deserved it." Fred said.   
"Goes around, comes around." George filled in.   
Then the train staff came running and before Draco was helped to his feet, he hissed in a voice that was worthy of his father.  
"I'll have you expelled now, Potter."   
But it was Neville's cold stare that would haunt him all the way to Hogwarts.


	2. Temptation

**CHAPTER TWO: TEMPTATION  
**  
_Tick tick time o mad desire  
Evil eye me high above   
Jet black coal my soul on fire   
Deep inside you can't deny my love  
_-Ferry-  
  
Professor Severus Snape could hardly believe his ears when he heard about the fight on the train. It just seemed a bit too good to be true, that Potter had given himself another excuse to be expelled. Dumbledore had gathered all the involved students at his office and asked the heads of the two houses to be present, so Snape was hurrying down the corridores and up the stairs to be there in perfect time. If this was the final nail in Potters coffin, he was going to be there, not missing a second.  
  
A heavy silence rested over the gathering at Dumbledore's office. Snape could almost smell the fear of expulsion as he entered and he savoured it, giving a polite nod towards Dumbledore and professor McGonagall before he placed himself beside the headmaster and explored the room with a calculating gaze. His Slytherin students were seated beside Potter in front of Dumbledore's desk. Draco looked a sorry mess, with bandage wrapped around his moonpale hair and small cuts from shards on his face. But he was sitting rigid in his chair, putting on a show of silent martyrism. Potter and his friends looked all the more tense. One exception stood out from the usual troublemakers. Neville Longbottom had obviously gotten himself into bad company. It was a bit out of place to see him there. Maybe if some absurd accident had occured, but not because of a brawl. Draco's gaze was also drifting strangely towards Longbottom. Could the sad excuse for a Gryffindor have played a larger role in this?   
As Dumbledore drew out explanations from each one of the gathered students, the situation became clearer and everyone except Harry and Draco were dismissed. Dumbledore studied them with a piercing gaze until they avoided his eyes.  
"You two need to understand the seriousness of your actions." he said. "You, Harry, must learn not to use violence as your weapon."   
Snape could see how Harry reacted to this, how sparks of anger were lit in his eyes.   
_Go on Potter, do it._ Snape thought as a silent prayer. _Lose it in front of Dumbledore._ "What?" Harry looked full of dismay. "So anyone who'd like to can have a go at my parents? Or at Neville's..."   
"Settle down, Harry." Dumbledore said in the same calm voice. "And you Draco, need to realise that words sometimes have the impact of fists."   
Draco looked down, but inside he thought that Dumbledore must be a complete idiot. Of course he knew what impact words had. Words were the fine art of war when all other weapons were out of boundaries. His father had taught him that. Did Dumbledore think that he was, like, five years old?  
"The head of your house will decide how to make you understand the seriousness of what your actions." Dumbledore finished.  
Snape was growing impatient. This wasn't going his way.   
"Forgive me, headmaster" he said. "But dare we have Potter around, knowing of his already ignorant disposition towards rules?" Snape eyed Potter with a contemptous stare.   
Potter returned his gaze, full of hate.  
"He did, after all, attempt to murder young Malfoy over some minor, common dispute. The law clearly seems to be below him."   
"There there, professor." Dumbledore soothed, in the same voice he had used addressing the students. "I am sure that professor McGonagall will handle the situation properly."  
Snape bit his lower lip in fury, but said nothing.   
Harry disappeared out of the room with professor McGonagall, who gave Snape a comforting glance, making him even angrier. Dumbledore leaned forward, catching Draco's gaze with eyes more serious and reproaching than Draco had ever experienced from his headmaster.  
"And there's one more thing before you go, Mr Malfoy. Your joke about Mr Longbottom's parents has come to my attention and is not to be taken lightly."   
Draco vinced at the mentioning of the joke. He widened his eyes and tried to grasp for words to defend himself, but nothing came out.  
"In these times when Voldemort's appearance is a frightening reality, these words of yours could have been easily misinterpreted."   
Draco vinced again when Voldemort's name was spoken. This wasn't allowed even in his own home, behind closed doors. Some rage adopted from his father simmered in the back of his head, at Dumbledore's lack of respect for the Dark Lord. But Draco felt no loyalty for Voldemort of his own, since this legendary wizard was defeated around the time of his birth. He never saw Voldemort in his glory and could not relate to it other than through the stories of his parents.  
Dumbledore eyed him curiously.  
"Do you understand me, Mr Malfoy?"  
"Yes, Headmaster."   
He suddenly hated Dumbledore for bringing that knot into his stomach again and for the lack of control in this situation. Draco loathed being bullied around by adults and students alike, since it was not in his nature to give authority over to anyone else. Except for his father, who was outright dangerous to refuse. And then there was Snape. Was Snape watching him just now? Why did he look so demanding and impatient? And why was Dumbledore looking at him as if he was expecting some kind of phenomena to emerge from Draco any minute? Finally he understood.   
"Forgive me, headmaster." Draco murmured, while looking at his shoes and trying to make the heat on his face go away.   
Dumbledore really treated him like a child. But on the other hand, Dumbledore just did that to professor Snape, when he rightly tried to have Potter thrown out.  
"Very good." Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling in an annoyingly friendly way. "Please follow professor Snape and let him give you instructions."   
Draco nodded and was relieved that Snape made his way out without hesitation. Only once did Snape stop to turn in the doorway and shoot an accusing glance at his headmaster. Potter was still running free and Snape had been given extra work.  
  
Draco's detention was to be served in the school library. Snape gave him instructions on sorting the potion books, categorizing them into an entirely new order, written down by Snape. Meanwhile, the potion's master declared that he would be in the dungeons, checking on Draco after a while or so. Snape was obviously displeased with the situation and Draco did not give him a reason to get any crankier. He attended to the given task, making it as perfect as he could. It took more than half an hour before somebody else entered the library. At first, he thought it was Snape. As he heard the footsteps approach his shelf, he increased the pace, looking very interested and eager about the books. The person came into view and leaned himself lightly on the side of the shelf.   
But it wasn't Snape. It was Neville.   
Draco's irritation caught fire at once. He straightened up and shot a contemptous glance at the uninvited guest. He really didn't wish Neville to see him in a position doing detention. But another strange side of him didn't want Neville to leave either. Neville looked back at him with that typical, accusing stare.   
"Are you lost, Longbottom?" Draco said with a sneer that he hoped looked like Snape's. Neville didn't answer at first and Draco took hold of another book with as much dignity as he could muster.   
"Concidering your own dodgy family, it's surprising you had the nerve to speak to me that way." Neville was partly looking at his fingers, partly at Draco. But he stood there, relaxed as if he didn't realise that he had used the wrong voice to a Malfoy.   
Draco almost dropped the book in surprise. He couldn't believe his ears.   
_"What?"_ he finally managed to get out, putting the book down.   
"You heard me." Neville answered, voice still low, but steady. "If you're going to start something, at least dare to do it with the odds even!"   
Draco folded his arms and bent slightly forward, giving Neville the most threatening stare he could.   
"Maybe you'd like to take that back while you still can!" Draco hissed, but had a feeling of treading on thin ice. This annoyed him even more. How could he feel even a hint of uncertainty around Neville?   
Neville's answer was soft, but determined.   
"I'm not taking it back."  
The world was upside down. He, Draco, stood in the library suffering from an unfair detention and Neville was right there, insulting him. And as if it wasn't enough, Neville's presence made Draco a bit nervous. His father would have died of shame at this show of weakness. Neville couldn't win!  
Draco scanned Neville for signs of weaknesses, while moving slowly towards him. Neville froze at Draco's approach, but did not move. Draco finally found some flickering fear in Nevilles dark brown eyes, but was greeted with all the more obstination. Damn these Gryffindors! Draco was now less than a step from Neville, cornering him so that Neville had to keep his back to the shelf. Now he could see the Gryffindor trembling slightly and this awoke new sensations of pleasure in him. He was in control and it was impossible to resist the temptation of going further, getting the full kick of the moment.   
Draco closed the distance between them with one last step and stood so close that Neville had to press his hands to his stomach not to bump them into the Slytherin by accident. Draco gave him the evil eyes and the wicked smile, meaning victory. It was nice standing so close to Neville, seeing those dark eyelashes shade the warm haunted eyes, absorbing the clean, soft features of his face, feeling his uncomfort, letting fingers play over the smooth chin...   
"You know..." Draco whispered in a mocking voice, his lips way too close to Nevilles. "...I am quite mean, now that you're bringing it up. So what are you going to do about it, hm?"  
And before he really knew what he was doing, he had pressed his lips against his intended prey. Neville got startled and didn't move one inch, seemingly caught up in the shock of feeling Draco's lips touching his own. Then Neville's breathing became short and fast, waking all the more response in Draco. He sank his fingers deep into the back of Neville's neck and pressed his thumbs into those soft cheeks, just a little too hard. Then Draco let his tounge slide into Neville's slightly parted lips, making this first kiss ever rough and demanding. Neville almost lost his balance, letting out a miserable sound of conflicting feelings that drove Draco almost mad. But the kiss met response and the hands that flew up to push Draco away was trembling too violently and lacked any real strength. Draco caught these hands and slammed them into the bookshelf with such force that several potions books came crashing down to the floor. Neville made that maddening little noise again and still he did not try to stop Draco's exploring tounge. Draco's brain seemed to be controlled by an autopilot, making plans to drag Neville down with him on the floor, untying his robes...  
"Mr Malfoy."  
  
Draco thought he would die of fright, hearing the chilly, cynical voice of Snape peircing his clouded mind.   
He took a startled leap away from Neville, feeling like his heart would stop, like he would crumble to pieces or evaporate into thin air by the mere sight of his potion's master, standing with arms folded, demonstrating the most scolding glare Draco had ever seen directed towards him. Neville seemed in no better shape, bracing himself against the shelf to remain standing, his face white with fear of this intimidating interruption.   
"I thought I told you what to do, Mr Malfoy." the cold voice continued.   
Draco felt his cheeks burning red with embarrasment. He tried to regain his normal royal composture and fought to shape words in a fruitless attempt to answer the head of his house. Everything failed and Snape let the same cold voice dictate the iron order he was to put on the situation.  
"I recommend you to clean this up, Mr Longbottom." he said, pointing at the books on the floor. Neville could only nod for an answer, the fear of Snape eating all words.   
"I strongly recommend you, Mr Malfoy, to return to your dormitory. At once."   
"Yes, professor."   
Draco didn't know how he managed to answer at all. He didn't recognise his own voice. He was more than relieved to be dismissed and rushed out of the library and all the way up to the Slytherin toilets in senseless panic, escaping Snape's stare and the dawning realisation within him.


	3. Amends

**CHAPTER THREE: AMENDS  
**  
_I'll probably burn in hell for saying this  
But I'm really in heaven whenever we kiss  
But not me, I'm not like that  
I wouldn't sacrifice anything at all for love  
-_D.M.-

The door to the Slytherin bathroom was slammed shut with such force that echoes were sent rolling down the halls. Draco made sure it was properly locked and sank down to the floor, palms pressing against his temples.  
It was over. He was done with.   
He had kissed Neville, Neville of all people, and liked it!   
His father was going to kill him if Draco didn't jump out of a window first and Snape had witnessed it and Neville, Neville had...   
Draco struggled to regain his breath, tried with all his might to get himself together. He was supposed to be cold and calculating, never showing weakness in public. He was a Slytherin, a Malfoy and Malfoys was not making out with Longbottoms in school libraries! He had to get a hold of himself. What would his father have done in this situation?   
Probably never kissed Neville in the first place, Draco thought bitterly. But Lucius would have told him to first take care of the leaks.   
The leaks.  
Snape was the leak, not an easy one to mend. And Neville had obviously been there.   
Oh no.   
The terrifying sight of how Neville ran straight to his Gryffindor comrades with the news played before his inner eye. _I have to talk to you, Harry! Draco, he acted all weird and wait until you hear this! He's gay..._   
But he wasn't gay, was he? And even if he was, Neville had actually kissed him back, Neville had wanted it...   
Back on track. He definately wasn't gay, so then it must mean that he had merely played with Neville. Yes. Just another way of bullying the frightened little Gryffindor. Right.  
It didn't mean anything. It couldn't.   
But his mind drifted reluctantly to the Gryffindor he had just kissed, imagining the torment of still being caught in the library with Snape. He could still feel the taste of the kiss on his tounge, his cheeks burning with that strange sensation, as if he was drugged. If Neville felt even half the things he did, Snape's gaze must be unbearable...   
Was this going to be brought up on the next staff meeting? He could see Professor McGonagall reproach Snape for the incident. _Keep your Slytherins under control, professor Snape! Now there will have to be a meeting, with the legal guardians of the students present..._   
His dad. Snape. Lucius liked Snape. Snape was in their home sometimes, dining with them and Snape was a death eater, just like Draco's father. They were confident with each other. Snape would tell his father, all for his own sake. Good little death eaters-to-be couldn't display such unruly behaviour. Draco had to prevent Snape from telling his father. And he had to do it now! His heart raced like madly, imagining that Snape might already be writing to his father, sending an owl tonight! There was no time to lose. Draco burst out of the bathroom, almost colliding with two frightened first year Slytherins.   
"Watch where you're going!" he snarled, leaving the poor boys piping out their excuses behind him.

Draco stood waiting by the door down to the dungeons when Snape appeared, finished dealing with Neville. Snape looked tired seeing Draco by the door, but Draco couldn't wait.   
"Professor, we have to talk!" he blurted out, way too fast.   
Snape calmly unlocked the door to his office, with the same face he had made towards Dumbledore when having to deal with Draco's detention.  
"Very well, Mr Malfoy. Enter."   
"Thank you, professor." Snape went directly to his desk, obviously wishing to be rid of this as soon as possible. Couldn't he see the seriousness of the situation!?   
"Sit down." Snape gestured impatiently at the chair on the other side of his desk and Draco quickly slipped into it, while Snape started to browse through a heap of papers in front of him. Draco cleared his throat, feeling the pressure of getting this right the first time. Snape was way too sharp for Draco's own good.   
"It's not what it looks like, professor."  
Snape glared at him over the desk, his eyes saying: _Do you think I'm stupid?_ But he remained quiet and Draco felt an absolute urge to fill the silence.  
"You see, I was...Neville came in to taunt me about the detention and I...wanted to scare him so I...went really close and then I happened to stumble into the shelf..."   
Snape rolled his eyes.  
"...and our lips just _happened_ to touch..."  
"Mr Malfoy!"   
"Yes, professor?" Draco did his best to look very innocent and wrongly accused.  
"Get a hold of yourself." Snape held a parchment out for him. "Take this with you as the Slytherin prefect on your way upstairs. It contains the names of the first years..."   
Draco couldn't believe his ears. He stared at Snape, his face turning almost as white as Neville's had been. Some vital defence mechanism within him burst.   
"But professor, this is about life and death!"   
Snape's impatience only seemed to grow. He put down the parchment in front of Draco, leaning forward to lock eyes with his student.   
"No, Mr Malfoy. This is about you and Mr Longbottom."   
"But...no, there's nothing between us, it was a mistake, I...didn't mean to."  
"Indeed."   
Draco felt as if he would crack under the heavy gaze of his potion's master. He suddenly understood why Snape often had been leading interrogations with prisoners amongst the death eaters. He couldn't help wondering if Snape had been present when Neville's parents were tortured.  
"I'm ready to make up for this!" Draco said, his voice thickening with despair. "I'll do anything, if we could just keep this between us, not involving my father needlessly..."   
Snape eyed him knowingly. For one mad moment, Draco thought he saw pity in his teacher's eyes. Then Snape spoke slowly and clearly.   
"I do not wish to concern myself with you, Mr Longbottom or your sexual preferences." Draco's face went red.   
"But..."   
"However." Snape continued in a more dangerous voice. "This means not having to catch you in the act again, displaying your...taste in front of the entire school."   
"B-but..." Draco thought he'd finally grasped the meaning of the expression 'dying of shame'.  
"I expect you to complete my detentions into perfection. All other activities outside your school duties are strictly your own business, not mine."   
"Yes, professor." Draco breathed, swallowing hard.   
"Since you failed to complete the simple task I gave you, we'll see each other tomorrow night, six o clock sharp at this very spot. There is no excuse to be late. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes, professor Snape."   
But Draco wasn't entirely sure that the message about his father had gone through. When Snape made a gesture towards the door, dismissing him, Draco remained sitting, as if his departure would have meant his death. Snape managed to pick up his quill and dip it in a small bottle of ink before he noticed and came to a halt.  
"Yes, Mr Malfoy?"   
Snape's entire being was now a living warning signal.  
"Forgive me professor, but...my father. He will not find out, will he?"  
"That, Mr Malfoy, I leave entirely in your hands."  
  
Still, Draco's walk back to the Slytherin dormitory resembled a funeral march. Crabbe and Goyle hurried to meet him and a crowd of Slytherins waited inside to hear the snide Malfoy version of the meeting at Dumbledore's office. But all inspiration had gone out of Draco's system. He felt feverish and out of balance. After facing Snape with this nightmare, the next person to face would be himself. Managing to escape his central role of the evening by promising a good story the following night, he dived for shelter into his bed. It was easy enough blaming the Potter Freak Accident for calling it a night this early.  
  
But sleep just wouldn't come. There in the blessed darkness and silence of the room, he had a chance to drop his guard and think. The knots in his stomach around Neville since the fourth year, obsessing about everything about Neville, turning it into merciless harassment.   
_No. I am not weak.  
_But he closed his eyes and the scene at the station repeated itself, bringing a painful reality with it. For the first time in his life, Draco became aware of a thin line between his father's will and his own. What if he _had_ gone too far?  
_Wrong. It is war. The Longbottoms chose sides and must face the consequences._   
Yes. That's how it was. He had done this thing with Neville only to put him into place, to demonstrate his superiority.  
Because Neville was weak and the Malfoys did not approve of weakness.   
Relieved at this conclusion he finally drifted off to sleep, haunted by most disturbing dreams.


	4. Rebellion

**CHAPTER FOUR**: **REBELLION**

_And he hit me with a surprise left   
My jaw left hurting   
My mouth wide open   
Jeremy has spoken in class today_   
-Pearl Jam-  
  
When Neville woke up the next morning he felt sick.   
The night had not offered many hours of sleep and as soon as he opened his eyes the heavy, burning feeling in his stomach returned. He decided to stay in bed while Ron and Harry rumbled around the room, making ready for breakfast. They were joking and laughing cheerfully, adding to the sting of bitterness aching in Neville. Not until they were fully dressed, Harry took notice of him and walked over.   
"Hey, Neville! You're missing breakfast!"   
"You'll need it." Ron muttered in the background. "Double potions and then the sodding Divinations..."   
Neville drew the covers further over his head.   
"I'm not hungry." he murmured.   
But Harry made no hint about dropping the subject. He sat down on the side of the bed and put his hand on Neville's shoulder.  
"What's up, Neville?"   
Neville actually felt a spark of annoyance towards Harry, but he knew Harry's intentions was good and decided to rise on his elbow to face him.   
"Don't know, it's the stomach. I'll stay in bed for a...what is it?"   
Harry and Ron were staring at him, Harry at his face and Ron seemingly at the covers.  
"What happened to your cheeks, Neville?" Harry looked very alerted.  
"Cheeks?" replied Ron. "What happened to your wrists?"  
Neville's eyes instantly scanned his hands. To his complete horror, there were bruises and small red marks from nails revealing where Draco's hands had held him. Neville shot out of bed like a rocket on fire and by the time he reached the mirror, his panick was fueled.  
A blue spot on his cheek lay imprinted as a silent reminder of the cool fingers that had caught him for the kiss.   
Harry was getting worked up very quickly.   
"Who did this?" he demanded, his eyes growing dark and sharp as daggers.   
But Neville didn't listen to him. He had to get out of the room now, before he exploded, dropped dead or whatever.   
"Was it Snape, Neville?" Neville turned to meet Harry's gaze, his eyes shooting poison that made even the-boy-who-lived jump.   
"EVERYTHING is not about SNAPE, Harry!"   
Leaving a stunned Harry and Ron behind, Neville stormed out of the room and took shelter inside a deserted toilet.  
  
Neville dealt the bathroom doors several heavy blows before the tears started to spill. He sank down on the floor, much in the fashion Draco had done last night, and cursed his miserable life like a thousand times before. The thing being different this year was that a lot of his fear had been replaced by anger, giving him just the amount of courage he was waiting for. But why was it, that as soon as this strength had come and made him ready to face anything, it had to be stolen by a default on his own accord?   
How could he possibly have known that the hatred he felt for Draco whenever he saw him, the stinging blow of the Slytherin's every word, the craving for vengeance towards the Malfoys, would have ended up in such a merciless revelation?   
He rose from the floor and started to wash his tears away, letting the water stream from the tap while meeting his own darkened eyes in the mirror. He felt a hundred years old at the sight, but rekindled the fury against the Malfoys by the memory of what happened last night. They had taken his family away from him, they and this potions master who had escaped justice and was free to roam the halls of Hogwarts, turning innocent people's lives into purgatory.   
So he had tried forcing an apology out from Draco last night, having him all alone in the library, for the unforgivable jest about mom and dad. Soon enough it had become clear what a miscalculation he had made about Malfoy junior.   
His feet had turned cold when his enemy had closed in on him, but he had proudly refused to back away from any physical threat. And then Malfoy had found a weak spot only known to Neville and pushed it!   
Imagine the sudden fling from heaven to hell, when this frightful weakness lay exposed in front of Snape all of a sudden!   
Death eater Snape, whose mere presence recalled horrifying memories of childhood tragedies he wanted to forget. And the thirty-minute eternity spent in the library before Snape let him go, forced into fixing the mess Draco had caused.  
The frustration of being pushed around by his parents' torturers rose again. So Draco had made a cruel joke out of his secret.   
But how could he have known?   
And this...feeling when Draco touched him. No, it couldn't be. His life couldn't be _that_ miserable. But inside he knew it was, and he had to take a decision right there and then if he was to survive his fifth year at Hogwarts. After all, the mirror proved that he was both taller and stronger. And he had thrown an infuriated Harry Potter to the ground the other day.  
No more Mr Passive Resistance. He could do this.  
  
Down in the potions classroom, there wasn't a student who didn't wish they were somewhere else, except maybe for Hermione. Even Draco found it hard to concentrate on the merciless instructions on the black board. Snape had obviously decided to shock them into discipline on the term's first lesson.   
As if Draco didn't have enough to think about!   
Neville hadn't been down for breakfast and they were ten minutes into the potions lesson without him. Snape did not comment his absence and Draco was grateful that his teacher didn't give him even one glance. Draco had a miserable time failing at convincing himself about his view of Neville. He sighed and growled angrily at the mixture in his cauldron. Crabbe and Goyle who tried to imitate his potion, had created a green glowing smoke leaking out along the floor. Snape had his back conveniently to the scene, standing over Harry Potter as usual, making snide remarks.  
"Tell me, Mr Potter, are you hiding the fact that you cannot read? The board clearly states that..."   
Suddenly the door to the dungeon creeked open and Neville strode down the stairs, ignoring Snape completely as he took his seat. If the classroom was quiet before, it rested in dead silence now.   
Snape turned slowly to face Neville, one eyebrow raised to frame his murderous glare.   
Draco thought Snape made groundbreaking progress in producing icy spikes in his voice. "Thirty points from Gryffindor for failing to respect the schedule."   
Nobody dared to protest the withdrawal. It was unthinkable showing up late for Snape's lessons.  
Instead of crouching in his seat as everybody expected, Neville simply pulled out his parchments and quill from the bag, averting Snape's eyes. His cheeks were burning a little and now Draco saw the bruise, getting a shocking reminder that last night wasn't a dream. Snape walked up to Neville, hoovering over him in a threatening way with arms crossed, as only Snape could.   
"We all know your mind is a bit _fickle_ for making an understatement, but surely you must have a very satisfactory explanation to your behaviour?" Snape's voice was now a low but very audiable hiss.   
Neville kept his eyes on the parchment, his voice uncannily clear as he spoke.   
"At least I haven't turned traitor on everyone who trusted me."  
It was as if lightning had struck in the classroom. Everybody stared at Neville with mouths wide open.  
Draco thought he would die from the shock. Not even his father would have dared to make the offence! Snape's reaction came quite fast, as he grabbed hold of Neville's arm and jerked him up from the seat, letting the chair crash into the floor with a sharp noice that made everyone jump. Nobody dared to move an inch, as Snape pulled a struggling Neville harshly to the door while ordering the class what to do in his absence in a voice that was not to be denied.  
"Read chapter three carefully while your potions are fermenting and follow the instructions to perfection."   
Neville obviously wasn't finished, his voice boiling with surpressed anger.   
"I won't do what a _murderer_ tells me to do!"   
Hermione clatched her hand to her mouth and several gasps were heard, but Snape continued in the same voice.   
"Failure to carry out the instructions properly, might cause...serious accidents."   
With this, the door to the dungeon was slammed shut with a fateful bang.  
  
Several seconds floated by before anyone dared to make a sound. Then the frantic buzz of conversation rose around the room. Naturally, Potter made himself heard over all the others, getting on his feet with a dramatic line.  
"He's going to kill Neville!"  
"Settle down, Harry! Of course he won't!"   
That was Granger putting some reason into the conversation, but Draco felt horribly uncertain about denying Potter's assertion. For once, he sat in a painful silence while the other Slytherins discussed how many points were to be taken from Gryffindor for those last remarks. Was he the only one who had seen what had really happened?   
Only when Pansy Parkinson made a crude joke about Neville getting expelled, did he force himself to laugh with the others and top her clever remark with something worse. He couldn't make them think that he had anything to hide, because he really hadn't!   
Had he?


	5. Seduction

**CHAPTER FIVE: SEDUCTION  
**  
_Face to face   
The passions breathe   
I hate to stay   
But then I hate to leave_   
-Souxie and the Banshees-  
  
Snape never really needed any reminders to why he hated the fifth year students so much. All these teenage rebellions breaking out, but why, oh why, did one of those have to happen in his classroom? Surely he had put some remarkable pressure at Longbottom since year one to make him grow a spine, but this growing was supposed to happen gradually and not as an explosion. In two days, two of his students had made rebellions by commiting acts that were an outrage to their nature.   
Well, three, counting Potter. But it was no big suprise seeing James'son adopting his father's temper. But if it was a shock seeing Malfoy with his tounge down Longbottom's throat, it was nothing compared to Longbottom's blatant mentioning of Snape's dark past in front of the entire class.   
He had to mobilise all his self-control not to twist Longbottom's arm and make it snap like a twig, once they were out of the classroom. And then he had left Longbottom to Dumbledore, since he was very unwilling to take the infected subject further with his student. If he had believed in bad omens enough, like Treelawney, he would have packed his bag and fled the school by now.   
At least noone had dared to neglect the task he gave them, once he returned to the classroom, and nobody had the nerve to mention what had happened. A searing headache was building up. And to think that he still had a detention to finish with Malfoy. If the boy started to drabble about the Longbottom incident, the day would be complete!   
Snape seated himself by his desk, starting to put marks on the student's potions for the day. Malfoy would be there any minute and Snape was going to make clear that he did not wish a conversation.  
  
Draco's day had been absolutely awful and he couldn't admit to himself why. The Slytherins had made him feel like the king of Hogwarts and he had managed to show off at the Quidditch training as well. As he made his way to the dungeons, Neville's rebellion was still tormenting his mind. Was the Gryffindor really going to be expelled? What if he never got to see Neville again? Draco stopped short in his tracks, pressing his hand to the forehead.   
What was this? Since when did that matter?  
He was obsessing about Neville!   
"Stop it...stop!" he murmured to himself.   
But this thing Neville had done, it deserved some admiration, didn't it? Even if he was a Gryffindor and not important to Draco at all? The voices almost startled him, getting louder as their owners approached. Some students were coming his way and he recognised Neville's voice among them.  
Time to do a Slytherin. Draco quickly disappeared into the shadows of a great column by the wall. Maybe they would say something about the events in the dungeons.   
Soon he caught sight of Potter, Granger, Weasley and Dean, walking in Neville's company. They seemed to be in a quite cheerful mood, to Draco's big surprise. He could not imagine the Gryffindors had anything to celebrate after what happened. But the small gathering was joking and laughing and as they stopped within sight from him, he had a perfect opportunity to study Neville unseen and squeezed every drop out of it.   
Neville really had grown. His body was now more slender, but not lacking these soft features, giving him the innocent look. The chestnut hair was cut short, but had unruly curls that shone in the candlelight, making it look too perfect, like a painting. The skin always had a healthy shade of colour, unlike the Malfoys who were known for their deadly pale. The dark warm eyes were soft and seemed to have ember burning deep inside of them, despite their constant mark of sorrow. Some gold freckles stained his cheeks, giving him the ever-boyish look. The soft lips were curved into a smile. And the bruise Draco had made was stating a juicy secret he shared with Neville...  
_Do not obsess over the bruise, you pathetic twat!_  
None of the Gryffindors mentioned the Dungeon Incident, even though it was already a Hogwarts legend. They had probably discussed it to death all day, like the rest of the school. But Neville told his friends that he needed to go to the lavoratory and they waved him off, telling him that they would be in the dormitory. This was too good to be true.  
  
Draco managed to stalk Neville all the way up to the Gryffindor toilets and as Neville entered, Draco waited only the proper seconds he needed before he slipped in, as quietly as possible. Neville turned the taps just as he came in, washing his hands. Draco closed the door behind him soundlessly and leaned his back to it.   
A beautiful sight, seeing the Gryffindor with his guard down, deeply in thought.  
"Clever move."   
Neville made a frightened jump and a sound that matched it, raising all his defences. He glared up at Draco, shutting the taps fast and put his back to the wall, folding his arms. He gave Draco that sharp look of cold resentment again, but Draco could trace the hint of uncertainity in his eyes.   
Just as he had counted on.   
Draco suddenly felt pangs of wild jealousy towards Potter and Weasley for having the luxury of Neville's smiles and openess. But on the surface he stood absolutely relaxed, as a role model of self- control, and met Neville's glare with an uncanny smile.   
"Get out." Neville's voice was low and determined, but his gaze flickered and he couldn't look the Slytherin directly in the eyes.  
Draco's smile grew deeper.   
"No."   
"If you don't go, I'll call to the others."   
Draco raised an eyebrow in his aristocratic manner, feigning curiosity.   
"So, the brave Longbottom who challenged Snape in his own quarters are so terrified of me, that he'll need the entire Gryffindor cavalry to his rescue?"   
Neville's cheeks started to burn red and he bit his lip. Amused by the sight, Draco continued on the subject.   
"So, you made sure to be left in peace at Snape's lessons. I bet he'll concider it very carefully the next time he comments your efforts."   
Draco started to walk slowly towards Neville, who typically held his ground. "Stop...right...there!" Neville's voice was low but a little threatening.   
Draco ignored him.   
"But you fear Snape so much. The whole school knows. So what made you take the chance to provoke him like that? A death wish?"   
Draco had stopped at an arm's length from the Gryffindor, who showed sparks of outright hate in his eyes now.   
"Like you care."   
Draco tilted his head slightly to the side, looking back at Neville very sternly, his smile fading.  
"There there, Neville. Last night you wanted my intimacy. Don't think you can choose when to have it."  
"You...prick!"  
Draco's smile reappeared and he took a small step nearer Neville, who looked furious, hurt and panick-stricken all at once. Neville made a rash move, trying to sidestep past Draco, but the Slytherin blocked his way as quickly and again Neville was trapped against the wall, all according to plans.   
Pale fingers moved up to stroke the mark on Neville's cheek. Draco managed to catch the hand that shot forth to stop it just in time, keeping his movements deceptively calm not to fuel Neville's jumpiness.  
They were standing irresistably close now, Neville's breathing a little shaky and Draco's hand playing on the cheek and then with the Chestnut hair between his fingers.   
"That's good." Draco whispered. "Be still, just like that..."  
Neville seemed short of breath and he didn't stop Draco as he leant forward and caught Neville's earlobe with his teeth, pulling it teasingly. Draco felt his victim shivering and that was all he needed to unleash his restrained desire. He released the trembling hand from his grip and sank his teeth into Neville's soft neck instead, sucking so hard that a coppery taste of blood soon lingered on his tounge. As Draco slid his arms around his waist in a death grip, Neville unexpectedly let his own unsteady hands rest on Draco's back. Their mouths met and the kiss that followed made Draco think that the fire rising was going to eat him alive.   
He sucked at Neville's tounge, bit it and this time he really did pull them down to the floor, instantly placing himself on top. Feeling Neville's hardness pressed to his thigh, he shamelessly pressed his own against the stomach beneath him, while impatiently coaxing with the Gryffindor robes to get them off, once and for all!   
Neville had a start as Draco's hands snuck inside his clothes to touch bare skin and the Slytherin had to force Neville's hands over his head to get his point across. Cunning grey eyes knowingly studied burning dark ones.   
"But you want this, Neville." Draco whispered next to his ear.  
Neville gave out a defeated sigh and Draco thriumphantly scratched his nails against the nakedness he had unveiled, hearing the moans rising in response.   
"Schhh...now let the evil death eater help you relieve your tensions..."   
Pain exploded in Draco's groin and the fist came flying so fast that he had hit the floor before realising what happened. Neville was on his feet, flaming with rage, refastening the robes where Draco had opened them.   
Draco tried to get up but failed. The pain in his nose and groin had the room swimming before his eyes and streams of blood were spilling down his expensive Slytherin robes.   
Neville's eyes were shooting bolts of lightning.   
"YOU EVIL, UGLY CREEP!" he spat. "Don't touch me again, or I SWEAR I'LL BREAK ALL THE BONES IN YOUR BODY!"   
With this, he fled the toilet, leaving a confused Draco with a desperate urge to flee the scene before a Gryffindor came strolling in.   
Fuck.   
It must have been the Death eater thing. Had to be.  
And if he survived this hellish pain, he would make Neville pay dearly for his trespassing. 'Creep' he didn't mind much and 'evil' actually filled him with a sense of pride. But nobody was calling Draco ugly!  
  
Oh hell. Time and space returned and brought back the memory of his supposed detention with Snape.


	6. Denial

**CHAPTER SIX: DENIAL  
**  
_I know you think that you're safe, mister  
Harmless deception that keeps love at bay   
But it's the ones who resist   
That we most want to kiss,   
Wouldn't you say?_  
-George Michael-  
  
The stay at Hogwarts turned into a nightmare easily as waving a wand.   
Neville returned to his dormitory, forgetting about the remarkable hickey on his throat, and soon the word around the school went that he had a secret girlfriend. Neville's dark red blushes only confirmed the rumours.  
  
Draco chose to struggle all the way to the dungeons, even though the hospital wing laid a lot nearer and had to be sent straight to madame Pomfrey accompanied by Snape, who really looked like he'd had enough. Despite all the pressuring questions about who had hit him, Draco refused to say a word. The only one not making even one comment, was Snape. The potion's master only gave him another detention that he was able to complete this time.  
  
By the time Draco returned to his former self, he became a bigger menace to the Gryffindors than ever. Always in the company of his faithful companions, he held the school in a reign of terror that sent him and Harry colliding so often that the staff felt it necessary to keep them under constant surveilance.   
Neville had become the target for all the worst viciousness the Slytherins could invent, partly taking over Snape's role as Neville's nemesis. But Neville had a lot of support from his house, now that he was some sort of Gryffindor hero after doing what all students only dreamed about when facing Snape's anger.   
The potion lessons had changed dramatically. Snape still shot snide remarks about his results, but with a lot more carefully selected words. And Neville had won some sort of inner, unbreakable strength from confronting his great fear. He had after all survived the battle when pushed to the limit and learned something very important from seeing Snape's reaction on the way to Dumbledore. He never showed Snape any disrespect again and Snape didn't seem to make any further thing out of it.  
  
But there was no shelter built up inside to meet the heavy blows raining from Draco each day and as for Draco, it was all he could do to drive the demon out that possessed him every morning when he woke up.   
And then a game of Quidditch near Halloween happened to put everything on its edge.  
  
Draco was soaring high above the audience, competing with Potter to reach the vily snitch this clear autumn day. Lucius was watching from a seat down there and Draco had been training like mad since he heard that his father would show up for the game. It had made him a lot of good, getting something else to think about than the constant inner torment. He heard the Slytherins cheer as he made a bold dive on his new Firebolt to block the way between Harry and the snitch, putting himself in the lead. The snitch was closing in and he could feel the flutter of its frantic little wings on his fingertips when he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye.   
He was flying very close to the Gryffindor audience and Neville was sitting with the Potter fan club, when a girl beside Neville suddenly put her hand on the Gryffindor's thigh!   
Draco didn't know what flew into him. Only that he saw red and had to create an accident by knocking her with his broomstick when he flew past.  
  
This decision was to be proven fateful. Before he could reach her, he collided with Potter and sent them both flying through open air from their broomsticks. The audience made frightened sounds, which revealed to Draco that the collision had been just as nasty as he had felt it. The ground was dwindling nearer in a horrifying speed, but at the last moment, the fall was slowed down and Draco fell heavy into the sandy ground, escaping with a sprained ankle.  
For one moment he caught a glimpse of Snape, standing among the Slytherins with his wand drawn. The next moment, Potter came down and crashed into Draco, landing on top of him. Draco gave him one look, as Potter tried to tangle himself free from the mess and then he flew right at his throat.   
"GET OFF ME, YOU FILTHY GRYFFINDOR-ARROGANT-"  
For each of the last words, Draco had his fist flying down at Potter, who reacted like an exploding powder ceg and returned the blows. People were running in their direction, but none of the brawlers made an effort to stop. They were tumbling around in the moist sand, before Professor McGonagall reached them and raised her wand.  
"Separia!"  
Harry and Draco flew in different directions and landed at a safe distance from each other. Draco felt a harsh grip around his arm and was lifted on his feet, but all he could think about was finding Neville in the crowd. His eyes darted furiously around, even when Snape dragged him away from the Quidditch field, followed by madame Hooch, who shot reprimands at Draco like a machine gun. Somewhere in the far background, Draco could see his father walking after them and even though he knew this outburst would mean dire consequences, all he could think about was that hand on Neville's thigh getting decapitaded with showers of blood.  
  
The rest of the day was spent in the offices of different teachers.   
First madame Hooch had a go at him, about competing spirit, bad losers and all. Then Dumbledore insisted on this serious conversation, his concerned eyes twinkling with worry for Draco's health and mind. If there was something wrong, he could confide in Dumbledore, he knew that, right?   
Yeah right!   
Then came the worst confrontation of them all, as Snape summoned him to the dungeons, and he just knew that his father would be there.  
  
To his surprise, there was only Snape waiting for him, but judging from Snape's face, that was quite enough. The icy chill in the room said more than a thousand words and was a lot worse than any scolding his teacher could come up with. Draco placed himself opposite Snape's desk and waited for the blow to come.   
Snape's voice was deceptively calm.   
"What is it that I should do to make you understand the message, Mr Malfoy?"   
Draco shuddered at the cold, heavy words and chose to look down instead of answering.  
"Do you realise" Snape continued mercilessly, "that this is the third time you go against my directions concerning the entire Neville affair?"   
Draco lifted his head, ready for his desperate speech of defence.   
"But it had to do with Potter! He landed on me, he..."   
"Silence!" Snape's gaze shot daggers. "First your blatant display in the library, then the time you turned up covered with blood, far too late to your detention..."   
"But that was..."   
"...and finally, you cannot release yourself from this spell you're under even for the seconds it would take you to win the cup for Slytherin!"   
Draco swallowed and felt the bitterness coming to life inside.  
"We're not seeing each other anymore." he said quietly.   
Snape let out an impatient sigh.   
"Gain control over the situation! Set your mind on your goal and attain it. Behave."   
Draco felt he wasn't finished. There was noone to talk to but Snape and the words just kept coming.   
"I fucked up when...well, I don't really care, but the bitch that sat beside him just provoked me as if I would CARE about what she does..."  
Snape slammed his fist into the desk, startling Draco to silence.   
"Enough! I have made it clear that I wish no involvement in this and speaking of the reason for that, your father wishes to see you right after I'm done with you."   
Draco's lower lip started to tremble a bit. Not even Draco could stand being told off in eternity and Snape's words hit hard. And there was this searing anger waiting to be released, waiting to bring down the sword of vengeance with full force at the intruder who had laid hands on his property.  
His property.   
Set the goal and attain it.   
Draco realised it had been done without any choice being made. No choice he knew about, but he did know that something old had been left behind forever and it became clear as Lucius entered the room and Snape left it.  
  
Draco didn't even have to look up to meet his father's reproaching gaze of disappointment. He knew the expression all too well and set his mind on looking cold and attentive as usual. Only this time, there were things moving in the depts of his being that had come to life and threatened to reach the surface.   
Lucius took a stand right in front of Draco and pierced him with a threatening and demanding stare.   
"So." he said with his silkiest voice, "There must be a perfectly good explanation to your decicion on staining the family name in public."   
_You don't want to know_, Draco thought, but out loud he said:   
"Forgive me, father. But Harry insulted me as soon as we were both on the ground, involving your name."   
Lucius heightened an eyebrow.  
"Is that so? Why, then Potter obviously deserves a lot more than he had."   
Draco drew in breath, to sigh in relief.   
"Still." Lucius continued, now in a reproaching voice. "Somebody ignored the rules by which the family play."   
Draco's sigh got stuck in his throat.   
"You" Lucius hissed, leaning forward to intimidate Draco further, "disgraced me in front of the entire school!"   
Draco didn't flinch, even though his first instinct was to do so, but lowered his eyes and kept on hearing his father's words. But he wasn't really listening anymore.  
"You know perfectly well the proper behaviour of a Malfoy in public. To show such weakness, such a primitive lack of self control, giving Dumbledore arguments to..."   
Draco felt his cheeks starting to get hot. Normally, he would have felt genuine regret for shaming his father, but now the heat meant that the limit was nearly reached. A new feeling sprang to life, protesting against the non-existent personal freedom of his life, mind and will. By just balancing on the borders of the forbidden, he had been yelled at the entire day, engaged most teachers of the school and was now facing penalty from his father.   
All while Neville might be somewhere with this girl, kissing or worse...   
"DRACO, PAY ATTENTION!"   
Draco met his father's gaze for a moment and then looked to the side, as the lecture went on.   
"I expect nothing less from my son. Discipline, honour, integrity. Carrying your noble name with dignity, making me proud..."  
"I'm not you."   
Lucius came to an immediate halt, staring at his son as if he had heard wrong.  
"What was that?"  
_Suicide._   
"I'm...not...you." Draco repeated, clenching his teeth together.  
Lucius seized Draco's chin in an iron grip, his life-threathening gaze but inches from Draco's. Draco stared back defiantly, hiding his fear as much as he could. He stood on the brink to something awfully foolish, but the door back seemed locked.  
"Obviously not." Lucius whispered with more venom than a deadly snake.   
"Then face it!" Draco snapped. "I have my own priorities!"   
"You are going to regret that."   
"I can't regret the truth."   
"Oh yes." Lucius said with an evil smirk, meaning he was truly furious. "You can and you will."   
Lucius' fist struck so hard that Draco was sent flying into Snape's heavy desk, hurting his back before hitting the floor. The footsteps closing in told Draco that his father was far from finished. While spitting blood, he wondered what temporary insanity had gone into him, challenging the man who was practically the right hand of he-who-must not-be-named.  
Lucius grabbed him by his robes and with a violent jerk, Draco was on his feet and thrown across the desk on his stomach. His wrists were held against his back, the flow of blood almost hindered by the strong grip. Draco tried coaxing himself out of it, but he knew it was doomed to fail. The first clever blow had made him lose balance and sent such shocks of pain through his head that it was hard concentrating on anything but preventing the tears.   
The familiar sound of Lucius' concealed dagger leaving its cane was heard and within seconds the clasps on Draco's robes were cut off, leaving his back exposed.  
Everything was done with chilling method and skill, one hand holding Draco fixed, the other set on the punishment.   
His heart beating wildly, Draco wondered if this was the sort of fear Neville had felt when confronting Snape. But another part of him was furious and set on standing his ground.   
Then he felt the cold edge of the thin, swift blade pointing at his neck.   
"Now" Lucius said in a horrifyingly calm voice, "we'll test your convictions".   
The first lash of the blade on his back was like an explosion. Draco had to gain all his strength to keep quiet.   
The cold tip of the blade was at his neck again, pressing to draw blood.   
"Tell me about your priorities." Another stinging whip came so fast that Draco unvoluntarily let out a loud gasp. Then more blows came raining down, destroying the inner defence built up against it.  
_I am not weak, it's just pain, that's all, that's all he can do...  
_But the tears burning in his eyes wouldn't hold and by the time the warm wetness of his own blood stained his face with each lash, he was crying out loud.   
The blade hesitated for a moment and the cold voice spoke again, seemingly unmoved.   
"I can't hear you. Speak up."   
But Draco was gasping for breath, his face wet with tears, trying to cough up the blood that had gathered in his throat from biting his tounge. The blade fell on his back again, setting fire to his already burning skin.   
"Stop!" Draco managed pressing out.   
The tip regained its position at his neck.   
"What are your priorities?"   
"The...family." Draco gasped, ready to say anything that made the pain go away.   
"And who is the head of the family?"   
"You!"   
"And what should you do?"   
"I should show respect..." The blade sent streams of blood running down his neck. "...and honour the family traditions!"   
"But you don't, do you?" Lucius' disapproving whisper was followed by one more blow than Draco could take.   
Fresh tears came spilling down his cheeks.   
"I'm sorry, _I really am_!"   
To his relief, his hands were free all of a sudden. Lucius took a step back and Draco fell down sitting on the floor, fighting to keep unconciousness at bay.   
"Stand up."   
Draco lifted his gaze to his father as if to make sure he wasn't joking. But Lucius fixed a critical stare at him, while cleaning his dagger with Draco's robe. Draco had no idea how he managed, but as soon as he was on his feet Lucius threw the robes to him.   
"Get dressed."   
Shivering, Draco obeyed. But the clasps were broken and he could only wrap the clothing around him, causing greater pain as the wool brushed against his back. He tried to raise his hands to wipe the tears, but moving his arms that much was too painful. Instead he remained still, feeling pathetic while Lucius sheated his dagger with a vicious smile and walked up to him. "I will not have such ungratefulness again. You take this into consideration. Without your name, you are nothing. See you at Christmas."   
With these words he patted Draco's back, forcing a miserable cry out, and then he simply left the room.  
  
Snape cursed and muttered as he tried to close the wounds on Draco's back with a blood-hemming salve. He had found Draco leaning against his desk, pale as a ghost, and the bloodstains around him spoke its own language, if the ugly mark on his jaw did not spell it out clear enough.   
Not a word had been spoken as Draco was led into Snape's private quarters and placed on his couch.   
"It will leave scars." Snape informed the half-unconcious student, as his treatment came to a finish. "I'll have you excused from all lessons tomorrow and for now, you will have a sleeping draught and I need to attend to my lesson."   
Draco murmured very sourly from his state of delirium.   
"Has my father left the school?"   
Snape froze in his attempt to rise from the couch.   
"You didn't put Mr Longbottom's life in danger by telling your father about him?"   
"Of course not!" the tortured voice answered. "I told you, he means nothing!"   
Snape shook his head in dislike. This entire Neville affair was like a soapy novel by Gilderoy Lockheart and then Lucius turned it into horror fiction for a moment, still leaving Snape with a much bigger part than he wished to play.   
Making sure that Draco took the sleeping potion, Snape made his way out to the classroom while surpressing his urge to catch up with Lucius and beat him up, displaying the arrogant coward Lucius was.   
As he reached his class of first years, the room laid in frightful silence even before he opened his mouth. Then Snape remembered the blood spilled over his desk and on the floor.   
Oh, well.   
At least it might prevent outbreaks like that of Neville's from ever occuring in this class.  
  
The fourth year student, Lucinda Wintermoon, hurried through the corridors to the great dining hall. If she arrived in time, she might get a chance to find a seat near Neville, the cute fifth year Gryffindor that had stood up against the horrible Snape some weeks ago.   
She had fallen behind her classmates as the Slytherin thugs Crabbe and Goyle had bumped into her on purpose, making her drop the books. Thankfully, Harry Potter had been around and offered a hand in picking up the books, preventing that Slytherin menace Malfoy from getting near.   
Lucinda had been so releaved when Malfoy had been absent for a week, but he had returned with full force, harrassing his environment harder than ever. Her thoughts shifted to Neville and her cheeks started to glow. She had been beside him at the Quidditch match after watching him for weeks, and he had been so nice and polite that she had settled on making a first move. Unfortunately, a horrible accident had occured before he could react to the hand on his thigh, sending Neville to his feet with obvious concern for Harry.   
Well, she would try again.   
Miraculously, an empty seat gaped beside Neville and she sat down, convinced that it must be fate. Ron was on the other side of the table and looked up at her, frowning.   
"Hey Lucinda, what's that sticking out from your pocket?"   
The blonde, curly-haired girl withdrew a folded note from where Ron had pointed and opened it. As she read, her eyes grew wide.  
  
**Miss Wintermoon,  
  
Do not try to talk to Neville, or touch him or even look at him. If you should, I'll send you to madame Pomfrey in thirteen pieces. Neville is mine. Forget about him, or I'll make you wish that He-Who-must-not-be-named had killed me while he had the chance.  
  
Harry Potter  
**  
Harry seemed conveniently uninterested, discussing some strange dreams with Hermione, but Ron eyed her curiously.  
"C'mon, what does it say? Let's hear it!"


	7. Surrender

**CHAPTER SEVEN: SURRENDER  
**  
_I hear the words denying   
But jealousy is blind   
As we speak I rage and tremble   
I must be sure that you're mine  
_-Ferry-  
  
Neville's problems seemed to have no end.   
He was exhausted from the emotional prison he was in and as if it wasn't enough, Hermione had told him about the note Lucinda had found yesterday.   
"But we know it can't be Harry." she had added very quickly and cleverly. "He would never had written the name like He-who-must-not-be-named."   
Then she had insisted that Neville should continue seeing Lucinda as usual and encouraged him to do something romantic with her. Neville had squirmed under her gaze, feeling his face get red and his stomach twitch. Not that he cared about Lucinda. She seemed nice and all, but it wasn't she who haunted his dreams every night, who could make him wake up crying, knowing what he desired was a hopeless torture.   
Of course he could guess who had written the note. He was surprised that the rest of the school had settled to believe that Harry had done it. Anybody who had seen Harry and Cho together should know that Harry was a normal teenager, without perverted secrets.   
Secrets like those of Neville.   
Things had been horrible after his last meeting with Draco and now Neville couldn't help wondering what new evil scheme was sent into motion. Couldn't Draco just be content with turning his schooldays into misery? Did he have to drag Harry into it as well? And what if he could just try to fall in love with Lucinda and forget the impossible obsession with Draco. Couldn't he just get a chance doing that?   
But deep inside he wished that the note had been the sign he hoped for, that Draco did care and hadn't done all those things to make fun of him. But this couldn't go on. Harry was beside himself with the troubles this was causing him and Neville couldn't see Malfoy walking around, beaming like that about it another day.   
He decided to confront Draco with it right after divinations, hoping to be able to see him alone for just one moment.  
  
It took Neville some time daring to approach the Malfoy court, knowing that a lot of courage would be spent on being an open target for the slytherins before Draco even gave an answer. But all the same he walked up to them, placing himself in front of Draco who arched an eyebrow in his pretended amusement. Neville hated that.   
"We need to talk." Neville said, his voice sounding a lot stronger than he felt.   
His words threw sparks of laughter into the fan-crowd surrounding Draco. Draco gave him a chilly smile, concealing any straying feeling from his gaze.   
"What would you possibly have to say?"  
"You'll find out if you dare to talk to me alone."   
Neville made a gesture towards the stairs. Draco eyed his company approvingly as they let out mocking sounds like 'ooo':s and whistles. The arrogant smile never leaving his face, Draco stepped forward as if it was the simplest thing in the world and addressed his friends before leaving with Neville.   
"I'll be right back. This can't take too long."   
Draco's smirk didn't wear off until they were out of sight from all the others and safe inside their usual hideout: A deserted toilet.   
Neville made sure to stand closest to the door this time, his accusing gaze meeting Draco's.   
"What do you think you're doing?"   
Draco shot Neville the same accusing stare and answered with a low, threathening voice.   
"You're asking me. Stepping up to me in front of everyone, asking for privacy..."  
Neville folded his arms, feeling that Draco's words hurt him somewhere.   
"Is that all that matters to you?"   
"How's things going with the mudblood Lucinda?" Draco didn't mean to sound so bitter, but his voice seemed to have a life of his own.  
"Actually, that's what I was about to ask. I can't believe you're having the nerve to involve my friends in this!"  
"You involved yourself first. Don't forget about that."  
"_Me_?! Why do you even care! You're up to nothing but making my life a complete misery and now you're throwing Harry in to it as well! Don't you have anything better to do?"  
"Well" Draco said in his most poisonous voice, "What do you expect from an evil, ugly creep?"  
Neville's mouth fell open.   
"_What_? You have the stomach to mention that, after what _you_ said?!"   
"I am not a death eater!"   
"THEN HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT!? Do you think it's funny, what happened to my parents, is it all a joke to you?!"  
Neville's breathing grew faster as he worked himself up to fury, making Draco catch fire as well.  
"WELL, WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO ABOUT IT!?"   
Now it was Neville's turn to spit poison.   
"Try to figure that one out!" he said. "And meanwhile I'll be in the Gryffindor tower with Lucinda!"   
And Neville ran out, leaving Draco to his own devices.   
This hadn't turn out the way Neville had wanted it to! And some pangs of guilt came into him, thinking about how he had used Lucinda as a weapon in his last sentence. But he felt strangely comforted. Draco had shown jealousy and Neville felt as if he had walked off with victory from the confrontation, completely missing the fact that Lucinda had been transformed into a deadly enemy for Draco.  
  
Lucinda had the luckiest day of the year.   
Neville had seemed so distant lately and she had almost given up hope. But then, the wonderful, magical note, containing Neville's handwriting, was found in her bag. He wanted to meet her out at the grove near the Whomping willow, alone in the moonlight. He had something to confess to her.   
The awful plot against them, beginning with the Potter note, had failed!   
After classes. she made her way up to the dormitories, singing to herself. She was going to look really pretty for him. She had thrown these secret glances at Neville the whole day, smiling as she made him blush. Tonight she set out to win him.   
Neville was hers!  
  
Inside the empty girl's toilet, being the deserted home of moaning Myrtle, a most peculiar scene took place. Draco stood bent over a seated Goyle, bellowing at him with full force. The test tube within Goyle's hand trembled.   
"But it tastes awful!" Goyle protested.   
"I DON'T CARE WHAT IT TASTES LIKE! THIS PLAN IS GOING THROUGH AND YOU BETTER DO IT OR SOMEBODY ELSE WILL HAVE THE HONOUR!"   
Clearly frightened by Malfoy's outburst, Goyle sipped it all at once, grimacing miserably. Draco calmed down immediatly.   
"There" he said. "It wasn't so bad, was it? Now you better hurry up. The effects of Polyjuice potion lasts no longer than an hour or two. And we want our little joke on Potter to go through, right?"   
Goyle made a grunting sound, being his version of an evil laughter. Draco smiled back in appreciation. He hoped Snape wouldn't miss the ingredients Draco had been forced to steal to complete the potion. Lying in Snape's dungeon for a week had given him time to study the helpful recipe and if Snape ever found out, well Draco was sure he would understand. He had after all been nice to him after Lucius had left and he knew what Draco went through about Neville. Then he knew how important this was.   
Draco made an evil smirk.   
"Off you go." he said.  
  
As Lucinda came closer to the grove, she saw the silouette of her Neville, partly hidden behind the tree. She came to a halt, carefully checking that everything was into place, tracing her hand over the curls to make sure they looked okay. The temperature was freezing this early into December but she had been sure to put on extra robes. Just in case she and Neville would need something for a cover...   
The butterflies in her stomach just wouldn't be still, but she told herself that it had to be a lot worse for Neville. He was always so shy, the poor boy. In a hurry to break the ice, she ran the rest of the way, coming to a halt a few steps away from the figure at the tree.   
Her smile was fading. It wasn't Neville.   
It was Harry Potter.   
He was standing there with the most vicious smile she had ever thought that Potter could make and he held a rope in his hand.   
"I'm sorry, Lucinda, but you shouldn't have done that." Potter said in a strange hoarse voice. "I'll make you sorry I was ever born."  
  
Draco arrived to Snape's office in perfect time, having practised his most innocent look for hours in front of the mirror. He knew very well what was coming, but there was no proof of his involvement and if he just could keep his face straight they would have nothing on him.  
He realised his misjudgement as he entered the dungeons.   
Snape sat at his desk with his arms crossed, just glaring bitterly at him. Draco placed himself obediently in front of the desk, looking attentive. The silence was a little too long for Draco's comfort. He had just started to shift feet when Snape spoke.   
"This has to stop and it has to stop now."   
Draco looked innocent, and answered as polite as he could.   
"What has, professor?"   
"I'm warning you", Snape said quietly, with murder in his voice.  
Draco felt a little uncertain. Snape was doing his interrogation thing again, but he swore to himself he would not crack. Snape's voice continued mercilessly.  
"Tying her to a tree, setting fire to her hair..."   
Draco fought back the malicious smile that threathened to spread across his face.   
"Did it ever occur to you that I might not be so pleased having to work overtime on account of your silly little games?"   
Draco tried his innocent look again.   
"There have been enough consequences of your affair with Mr Longbottom, enough hospital visits and accidents. Not even the framing of Potter can raise my mood the slightest."   
Draco felt obliged to speak.   
"I don't have an affair..."   
"So I have decided" Snape interrupted "to leave this into more willing hands."   
The door to the dungeon opened and Albus Dumbledore entered, his serious blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight. Draco drew his breath in shock and turned to Snape with a desperate begging glance.  
"No." Snape said with an ominous smirk. "Now you'll have to face the consequences."   
Dumbledore gratefully sat down as Snape offered his seat and the potion's master placed himself standing at Dumbledore's right side.   
"Now, now." said the headmaster, "I'm sure you need to ease your heart on some matters. Severus, would you mind putting on some teawater?"  
  
As Christmas was drawing closer, the stories about what had happened to poor Lucinda still hadn't settled. She had been sent home for the rest of the term to recover from the trauma. Her beautiful hair had turned to ashes and the stories she had confessed to a few about her degradation were buzzing around the school.   
As for Harry Potter, his name was cleared officially, since he managed to find a water proof alibi. But the rumours was as vicious as ever and this was a small comfort for Draco, who had to attend to private sessions to Dumbledore one hour a day and serve another daily hour doing detention with Snape.  
  
Draco hadn't confessed anything, but both professors were convinced about his involvement in the Lucinda accident and instead of contacting Draco's family, they made him serve his time in school instead. This stopped him from participating in any quidditch training and he was forbidden to visit Hogsmeade at the weekends. Instead he was forced to help Hagrid nursing horrifying animals and he couldn't even complain or be rude towards Hagrid, having the threat of further consequences hanging over him.   
Although Snape had figured out about Goyle's involvement, he seemed to see Goyle as an innocent bystander and gave him no penalties. Draco was boiling with anger over the injustice. But it was worth the suffering to know that his rival was out of the way. He only wished that he would have time to see Neville, to catch him alone just once, for all the trouble he'd gone through. But Neville hadn't even met his gaze the few moments they saw each other. The Gryffindor always had this sad, worried look on his face and seemed to avoid company. Draco grew all the more impatient and frustrated, knowing that the day for the Christmas holidays closed in.   
Soon he wouldn't see Neville at all, for weeks!  
  
Then the same day as Draco's father was going to pick him up, the opportunity presented itself in an unexpected way. Most of the students had left school already, save for Potter and a few other orphans and misfits.   
Draco was on his way to serve the last detention of the year in the dungeons, when Neville hurried past, not looking at him. Neville looked red eyed and resolute and Draco couldn't help seeing it as a personal insult.   
"Have it your way, Neville!" he shouted after him. "Be a weak little coward!"   
Neville just disappeared behind the corner and suddenly a strong hand jerked Draco through the open dungeon door. Snape gave him a scolding frown.   
"Now, what on earth do you think you're doing?"   
"Did you see how he just ignored me, professor Snape? The self- righteous..."   
"His grandmother passed away some hours ago." Snaped informed him matter-of- factly. "You put yourself together at this moment and ..."   
But Draco looked as if he had been struck by lightning.  
"What?" he breathed.   
Snape looked slightly impatient.  
"She fell ill a few weeks ago and died unexpectedly this morning. Now, Mr Malfoy..."  
But Draco felt as if he was going to lose his mind.  
"I have to go" he said to Snape. "I'll finish the detention and do it twice as long if you just let me go, please!"   
Snape sighed.  
"I do not wish any double detentions with you, mr Malfoy."   
"Say what you want and I'll fix it!" Draco's voice brimmed over with panic. "Money, power, slave labour, whatever! Just let me go!"   
"And you would take the opportunity to wreck havoc again. No. Your father will be here within an hour and by then you should have finished the detention."   
Snape looked so impossibly unreachable about the subject that Draco threw himself at his knees before the startled potion's master.  
"PLEASE, by Merlin and all the gods and demons in hell! THIS IS ABOUT LIFE AND DEATH!"   
Snape immediatly pulled him to his feet.   
"STOP THAT AT ONCE! Sit down!"   
Draco nodded and relaxed enough to make Snape let him go. Then he looked thoughtful for a second and glanced at the door.   
"Oh, no!" Draco breathed, in a little too overworked act. "I forgot my pencil!"   
"You don't need your..."   
Before any of them managed to blink, Draco threw himself at the door and ran out, followed by Snape's furious shouting.   
"DRACO!"   
But Draco ran as if his father was after him, straight for the Gryffindor common room. He had no idea about what to do or what to say once he got there, but it didn't matter right now. Obviously, his system had decided he needed to find Neville before his brain had given its consent. Closing in on the Gryffindor wing of the castle, Draco stopped to catch his breath and ponder a problem ahead.   
How was he supposed to enter without the Gryffindor password?   
He doubted very much that he'd be let in if he knocked. And for all he knew, Neville might not be alone in there!   
Before any more obstacles crossed his mind, the answer to the main question appeared before him like a golden key. A tiny little first year Gryffindor girl with a blonde ponytail and freckled nose crossed his way. Or more accurate, tried to cross it.   
No time to lose. Draco dived into his most convincing act as the School Terrorizer Number One and blocked her way.  
  
The password worked out fairly well, considering the long argument with the fat lady in the painting. But as Draco entered the Gryffindor common room, his rationality started to protest wildly.   
_This is insane. Potter could be here, for Merlin's sake! Get out, Draco. Get out before your entire prestigious reputation in this school is smashed under your own boots._   
His heart started to beat ferociously as he scanned the common room after looting Gryffindors. To his relief it was empty, save for the couch beside the fireplace.   
There he was, the one who had rocked his world so much that nothing seemed real anymore but this feverish craving. There was a deafening silence hanging over the room, but as Neville looked up with his heavy gaze, his cheeks stained with tears, Draco started talking as fast as he could, to prevent Neville from misinterpreting everything.   
"I didn't know about your grandmother."  
There. He said it. He really hoped it had come out right. It was quite an effort just to rinse all edgy things he could say out from a sentence. But Neville stared at him as if he had seen a ghost and Draco felt compelled to keep talking.   
"I thought that you were pissed off about the Lucinda thing and nobody told me about your grandmother, obviously nobody would, and... and... I just walked by here so, thought I'd mention it. And now I have. So."   
The surprised expression on Neville's face didn't fade.  
"But... how did you get in here?"  
"I...does it matter? Maybe I have contacts."   
Draco smirked mischievously on pure reflex, but wiped the smile out in a heartbeat, as he realised it might serve his purposes very badly. Neville's eyes widened and he looked very close to crying again, his painfilled gaze bothering Draco on an unknown level.  
"What are you going to do? Please just go and turn someone elses life into misery!"   
"Neville, for fuck's sake!" Draco strode over to Neville's side and gestured to the couch.  
"Can I sit down?" Not waiting for an answer, Draco took his seat beside Neville, looking intensily into the fire.  
His hands were shaking, much to his dislike. Neville looked back with suspicion, moving back a little as Draco dared to glance up at him.   
"I'm not here to...you know...if that's what you think."   
Neville looked down, blushing in all his despair.   
"Then...then why are you here?"   
"I told you." Draco looked into the fire again and Neville followed his example.   
"Because... you're sorry about...my grandmother?"  
Draco shifted uncomfortably and felt the annoyance creep up. Why did Neville have to say the word 'sorry' in this context?   
"If that's how you choose to interpret it." Draco pressed out, trying to keep a distant tone in his voice, as if he was only small-talking about the weather.  
"Oh." Neville stared even harder at the flames. A moment of hyper-tensed silence passed. Draco knew that he needed to say something else, something better, very fast if the situation was to remain fairly stable, but this great monster seemed to be in the way, preventing access to such vocabulary. He tried glancing at Neville again. Neville glanced back and averted his eyes just as quickly.   
Draco tried to move his hand, amazed that it seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. He lifted it slightly and let it drop back into his knee three times before finally getting a hold of himself. Keeping Neville under constant watch, he slowly reached for the Gryffindor's hand resting on the couch. This time, Neville did not try to escape it, but only closed his eyes and allowed the pale fingers to carefully entwine with his.  
The suspense was about to kill Draco and he heard himself in an unfamiliar low and small voice, pressing alien words past the monster.  
"I didn't mean what I said. About your parents or about...thedeatheaterthing."  
Neville looked up directly at him so suddenly that Draco almost dodged away, certain that he would recieve another painful punch or kick.  
Instead, the Gryffindor's free hand shakily touched his cheek and Draco swallowed hard, unprepared for the response his body gave to it. Draco rose his other hand too and suddenly they were embracing each other, Neville hiding his face in Draco's shoulder. Fresh sobs broke out from Neville and for a long time, Draco was captivated with the privilege of the intimacy. Neville was open and vulnerable to him, holding him close and Draco was allowed to share this moment with him.   
He stroke the unruly red curls, not thinking of anything better to do and desperatly hoping that it was the right thing to do. There wasn't a lot of practising or experience from home on the issue comforting and tenderness. Or crying in public.   
It took a little while before Neville lifted his head and tried to wipe his face clean from the salty wetness.   
"I'll have to stay here for Christmas." he said. "I don't have any relatives that feel like taking me in..."   
Draco felt a horrible pang of guilt, as if the entire responsability of Neville's parents rested on him.   
"I wish I could stay." Draco said. "Or that you could come with me. But I'm afraid the Malfoy family have had all the issues it could take this year."   
Neville let out a small, spontanious chuckle between his tears.   
"Do you mean that?"   
Draco made a short nod, smirking at Neville's reaction.  
It was relieving speaking so openly to Neville, saying what he felt like. Not having to play any games or keeping up appearances. The situation had turned around at a mad pace but no logic mattered. As little as it mattered that the mere thought of Neville coming home with him was enough to place anyone at St. Mungo's department for the mentally disturbed.  
He kissed Neville on the forehead and then at the salty wet cheeks, hearing the trembling sighs in response. Then Draco just held him very close, not daring to continue his advances in fear of going too far.   
Neville had this maddening effect on him, even when he cried over his dead grandmother.  
"Your father will be here soon." Neville whispered.   
"Yes. How did you know?" Draco looked at him in surprise.  
"Dumbledore told me what day and time you were leaving."   
"Indeed." Draco tried not to sound too cynical.   
Despite the pressure from his headmaster in the everlasting sessions, Draco had refused to touch the subject about Neville, only to be greeted with those damned twinkling eyes.   
"What are we going to do?" Nevilles question shot them back to reality in a frightening pace. But Draco felt how he melted at the sound of that voice. His father could go fuck himself.   
"I'll think of a plan. You'll see."   
"Like the one with Lucinda?"  
Draco looked a little offended.   
"I had to." he explained. "She was in my way."   
Neville looked at him, frowning.  
"It was a really cruel thing to do."  
Draco smiled viciously.   
"I told you I was a bit mean."   
"You thought I wanted her, even for a second?"   
Draco met Neville's eyes. Instead of answering, a strange spark flew between them and they lent forward and met in a passionate, desperate kiss. Draco felt starved and Neville obviously didn't hold anything back. Draco fell over him on the couch and soon Neville's whimpers and Draco's growls filled the silence. It was bliss having Neville this needy, so stripped of his resentments and all the Gryffindor righteousness. Draco was on fire and forgot everything around him.  
  
As Draco hurried to meet his father, he was beaming, striding like a victorious general across the hall. Lucius eyed him curiously.   
"I trust your term has continued without any further complications?"   
Draco shot his father the winnig smile.   
"Yes, father and I have learnt some very interesting things about the Gryffindors."   
"Oh", Lucius said, clearly assuming it to be about Potter. "Anything useful?"  
"Definitely!" Draco answered in his most cunning voice. "Mark my words, he's going down."   
With that, he left his father content with the notion that he spoke about Potter, but there was an entirely different Gryffindor in Draco's mind.


	8. A christmas nightmare

**CHAPTER EIGHT: A CHRISTMAS NIGHTMARE  
**  
_Did you know all mothers come from heaven?   
Did you know all fathers come from hell?   
Can we ever hope to seek asylum  
From the bounds of fate and family?_   
-Tears for Fears-  
  
As usual, the Malfoy Christmas was a manifestation of their enormous wealth.  
Not a detail was missing, Draco thought, as he was pulled into the arms of his mother in the hallway. Narcissa's pearl blue eyes glimmered like newly fallen snow and she smiled proudly at him.  
"How you've grown." She whispered, brushing some melting snowflakes out of his hair.   
Draco beamed back at his mother, genuinely happy to see her. The tension between Draco and his father on the way home had been exhausting, even though both of them acted as if nothing had happened at their last meeting.   
"We have invited the Parkinsons, Crabbes, Goyles and Bellatrix along with some other friends of the family. You'll have a splendid Christmas."  
Narcissa kissed him on the cheek before sending him off to change clothes and as he politely kissed her back, Draco couldn't help thinking about Neville, sitting alone in the Gryffindor tower with only patronizing Potter there to hold him company. He frowned as he climbed the stairs to his room, a mad thought flying into him.   
What if Potter suspected something and tried to talk Neville out of it?   
Or what if Neville wouldn't wait and Potter suddenly opened his eyes to Neville, coaxing him into doing unspeakable things in their deserted dormitory?   
Noway! He wasn't going to lose Neville to Potter!   
Draco ran the rest of the way to his room, locking the door behind him. An owl was summoned very quickly, along with some parchment, ink and quills. He had to write something to remind Neville, just to let him know whom he belonged to, in case he got distracted. The quill was flying through the parchment, but none of the words seemed to manifest the proper way. Soon Draco was sitting in the candlelight with a frustrated scowl, surrounded by crumbled parchments.   
Finally, he heard a knock on his door and he had to settle for the last version and send it off in a hurry, signed with a 'D'.   
His father was waiting outside his room, flashing him a mysterious smile as he walked Draco down to the great hall of the mansion.   
"There's someone I'd like you to meet" he said, with a low and solemn voice. "It is certainly about time, now that your future is taking shape."   
"Yes, father." Draco said with a nod, but an omnious knot in his stomach was taking shape.   
The time to remind Draco of his future couldn't have been more badly picked.  
  
In the Gryffindor dormitories, Neville and Harry sat on their beds with a sea of sweets and fruit before them. Their few Christmas gifts laid scattered there as well and they paid great attention to them while chatting about everything and nothing. The school, along with some warm- hearted Gryffindors, had been kind enough to supply Neville with some presents. Harry brushed through a new book about Quidditch techniques, as Neville watched with amusement how his toad Trevor tried to make contact with a chocolate frog.   
Meanwhile, Harry ranted on about his problems with Cho, the Ravenclaw seeker he dated. He had been doing that for a while and Neville felt safe and calm hearing him, knowing that he wasn't the only one suffering from anguish in his love life. It had been hard enough separating from Draco, after the miracle of hearing his Slytherin obsession speaking soothing words and display tenderness towards him. If Draco had meant to touch his weak spot, he had certainly succeeded. Neville felt hopelessly caught in the last hot memory before they departed, the promise of forbidden pleasure as Draco had left him with a mischievous smirk and those words that had made Neville's cheeks turn dark red.   
_Enjoy the few days you have left as a virgin, Neville. Things are going to change once I get back. Trust me._   
And those sly, blue eyes, reminding him of frost, secrets and irresistable advances...   
"Who was that girl anyway, Nevvy?"   
Neville jumped and started to blush, as Harry's frank question took him by complete surprise. "Eh...who?" he tried, looking down at Trevor.   
Harry grinned at him, seemingly only encouraged by Neville's reaction.   
"Come on, we both know! The girl who gave you the hickey from hell."  
"Harry, can you keep a secret?"   
"Sure."  
Neville looked at Harry's cheerful smile, deadly serious.   
"I mean it Harry, this is really, really important."   
Harry raised his hand as if taking an oath, amused by Neville's desperation.   
"I swear on Dumbledore's beard, Neville. Your secret dies with me."  
"It's a boy."   
Harry's self-assured face fell off him completely and Neville felt a wave of shame well up. His nervous studdering returned for the first time since the fourth year.  
"D- do you think it's disgusting?" He looked carefully at Harry, ready to lock eyes with Trevor instead if worse came to worst.   
But Harry seemed to collect himself quite quickly, taking a deep breath with his hand held to his heart, as if turning his overreaction into a little joke.  
"Wow...okay, I didn't see that one coming!"   
Neville tried to smile apologetically, but failed. Harry tried to compensate at once.   
"Hey. It's fine with me, honestly. You just threw the biggest news of the year into my face, that's all."   
Leaning forward with rekindled interest, Harry continued to press.   
"But who is it? You have to tell me, now that you've gone this far!"  
Neville shook his head, fixing his eyes on Trevor.   
"I really can't do that, Harry."   
Before Harry could protest, a black owl tapped at the window with its beak, startling them both. Harry was closest to the window and opened it, letting the freezing bird take shelter from the whirling snow outside. To Harry's surprise, the owl made a blitz attack, biting his hand, before lifting and landing at Neville's bed. Harry was cursing loudly, as Neville took the small scroll bearing his name with shaking fingers. Harry sucked at his wound, while eyening the owl suspiciously. Neville on the other hand, unfolded his letter and read it several times, feeling his heart starting to beat faster.  
  
**Neville,  
  
I really hope that you are behaving yourself in my absence. There's a very special Christmas gift designed for you if you do. If Dumbledore cares about his life, he better give you a good enough vacation to begin with. It wouldn't hurt to take some attention from Potter and hand it over to you. Speaking of Potter, I assume you have to spend the Christmas together. Just bear in mind that Potter can be very persuasive and don't let him too close. He has been up to a lot of bad things lately and we wouldn't want you caught up in his web of intrigues. Should he try, my next letters would have to be written on his severed skin. Have a nice Christmas.  
  
D  
**  
Neville couldn't decide what to make out of the letter. It started out nice enough (to be Draco) but the last part about Potter seemed a little overreactive. He decided to write a reassuring letter in return, trying with all his might to keep a prying Potter at bay.  
  
Back in the Malfoy castle, the Christmas spirit seemed to live high in everyone except for Draco, whose Christmas spirit had turned into a nightmarish demon.   
All the guests had arrived two days ago and a lot of congratulations and welcomes had been raining on him. He had recieved them with perfect manners, seeing his father's proud gaze in the corner of his eye. But inside, he was still cold from the dreadful meeting with the being his parents had commited their lives to. The burning red eyes of the Dark Lord would not leave him alone even in his dreams. And Snape's piercing stare as Draco had recieved acceptance, unreadable and cold.   
But none of them were here now. Only the cheerful guests, all of them death eaters save for their youngsters.  
  
As usual, the kitchen elves had outdone themselves when making the traditional dinner for Christmas day. The conversation around the great table was light and cheerful, the competing for prestige unusually relaxed.  
Draco kept at his best manners and smiled at his father everytime he gave him that proud glance. The smile was genuine, since Draco imagined his fork stuck in Lucius eye to uphold it. And nobody present could view Malfoy junior as anything but irresistably charming and clever. Soon enough, some amused questions were aimed at the younger dinner guests, sending burning bitterness through Draco.   
"So how's the love life?" death eater Bellatrix asked him, clearly swayed by his act.  
"Do you have a girlfriend yet?"   
The inquiry met more interest, since both his parents and most of the present turned their curious eyes to him. Draco thought his soul could turn no darker.   
_No, but there's this boy named Neville, you know, the Longbottoms? Ha ha, yes. And his virginity is still intact, but I'll fuck him senseless soon enough. You might have ruined the odds for me and for that, you will all have to pay with your blood. Could you pass me the bread?_   
But he gave them a secretive smile and fed them some bits.   
"There's one I've marked as mine. It's only a matter of time."   
The answer seemed to please everyone around the table and Mrs Parkinson pointed out the similarity between father and son, making Lucius look even more proud. Draco made a mental note to remove her tounge some day, in a very painful way.   
But the other Slytherin students around the table got questioned as well and only Pansy had a little blush and threw a secret glance at Draco while trying to come up with a good answer.  
As dinner came to a finish, the teenagers were sent off on their own, all except Draco. His schoolmates glared at him with respect or envy before leaving the table. There was obviously some serious discussion to attend to, which suited Draco perfectly.   
The Dark Lord had risen and there were plans to be made. The subject blew old memories to life and soon the tales of the Dark Lords former reign was openly shared across the table.  
Draco listened with half an ear, but looked very interested. Only when Longbottom's name was mentioned, his attention became very sharp.  
"Good thing that the Longbottoms are practically extinct." said Mr Crabbe.   
"Oh, but there's this boy!" Bellatrix objected. "Draco, what's his name?"  
"Neville." Draco's voice was but a low growl.  
"Well, he will not make much of a difference." Lucius concluded. "The old Longbottom hag is dead and the parents are locked into a mental institution. I've heard that they hand the sorry little whelp pieces of toffee paper every now and then."   
The words released a wave of laughter and Draco laughed with them, though it was the hardest act he'd ever had to play. His fingers were turning cold and the sinking feeling in his stomach had come to stay. Inside his fury was glowing white, but he could not ruin this opportunity now.   
Mrs Parkinson smiled at Draco with the sort of underestimating face an adult did to a child.   
"But the Malfoys will prevail, no question about that." she beamed.   
Draco gave her his most charming smile back, answering with the most polite voice he could gather.  
"I doubt that very much. I'm gay."   
The silence was deafening.   
Draco's words hit the table like a thunder bolt and only the sound of Mrs Goyle dropping her fork was heard.  
Draco looked as if he had only mentioned the time and continued to cut his pumpkin pie into small pieces in his well-trained manner, still smiling. His malice had no end as he felt his father's burning gaze, knowing that he felt every whiplash Draco had felt that autumn day. And just as he had counted on, his mother held Lucius under sharp observation.   
Bellatrix looked absolutely dumbstruck and tried to save the situation in a really sheepish way.  
"Well." She blurted out with a nervous smile. "I guess someone has to be."   
Now all eyes turned to her instead, all except Lucius' and Narcissa's. Then his mother threw everything into an acceptable balance, as only she could, not showing any signs of surprise.   
"Draco, that is not a proper subject at a dinner table."   
Draco smiled politely at her.  
"Quite right, mother." Draco lifted the pumpkin pie in an offering gesture towards Bellatrix. "Some more pie?"  
  
Draco made sure to stay close to his mother the rest of the evening. Everytime Lucius looked at him, it was as if he tried to burn Draco to cinders only by staring. But Narcissa knew all too well where the anger was heading and insisted on sending Draco up to his room when the guests had gone to bed, keeping Lucius in the dining hall.  
The black owl was waiting for him on the windowsill as he entered. Quickly, as if catching a snitch, he grabbed the message and unfolded it, letting his eyes fly across the parchment. At least one of his parents would be visiting any second and by then the letter had to be burned.  
  
**Draco,  
  
Thank you for the letter. I have been thinking a lot about you. Don't worry about me, or about my holiday. Dumbledore has given us a great Christmas and Harry hasn't tried to pull me into anything. On the contrary, we have been talking a lot about personal stuff and I really feel that I can confide in Harry. It feels so good that we can share our secrets together (I haven't mentioned your name, though). I hope that your Christmas has been great and that you've had lots of presents. I miss you.  
  
N  
**  
Draco noted that he had stopped breathing as he read. What was the meaning of this? Confiding in Harry? Sharing secrets? What sort of secrets!?  
Then Neville had written that he missed Draco. Was it a chilly hint about Draco not being there for him when he wanted it? That Harry had become the substitute Neville needed and maybe decided to keep?   
He read it repeatedly, the thoughts in his head running in wild circles. Frustration started to skip hand in hand with searing jealousy.   
Right.   
So then Harry had to go. He had it coming anyway.   
A short knock on the door sent him jumping to the bed to bury the letter under his matress. It had to be burned later, simple as that.   
When his mother entered the room, Draco sat on his bed with the sulkiest face he could manage, his arms crossed and stubborness shining like a black halo around him. He wasn't even pretending.   
Narcissa placed herself on the bed as well, with the regal air of a queen. But her eyes were on fire, filled with concern, anger and demands, all at once. And she fixed them on Draco.  
"Now, what's the meaning of this?"   
Instead of answering, Draco pulled up the sleeve on his left arm, revealing the newly branded, ugly black skull on his pale skin.  
"It was too soon." he said and made no effort to restrain his bitterness.   
"No, love, it wasn't" Narcissa objected. "You fulfill every expectation and the Dark Lord is in great need of his faithful, now that his return to power is growing near."  
When Draco clenched his teeth together even more, she continued.  
"It is a great honour to be chosen and your father and I are so very proud of you."   
"Nobody asked me."   
Narcissa arched a beautiful eyebrow in surprise.   
"But Draco, you've always wanted this. Ever since you were a child..."   
"But I'm not!" Draco snapped. "And it's true what I said at dinner."   
Narcissa eyed him reproachfully, every word dripping venom as she spoke.  
"Not that voice with me, young man, or you can have this conversation with your father."   
Draco softened at the words. His mother knew all too well how to control an argument and after all, he wasn't really angry with her.   
"I'm sorry, mother" he murmured, and Narcissa laid her arm over his shoulders.   
"What you said at the table was very unnessecary."   
"But true."   
"Nonetheless, unnessecary."   
Draco's face darkened.   
"Father is going to kill me."   
Narcissa rolled her eyes.   
"No he won't, Draco!"   
But Draco shot up from the bed, his cold eyes flashing.   
"Yes, he will!" he said, removing the cloth from his back as he spoke, only to pull his shirt on again the next second.   
Judging from the stone cold face of Narcissa, the sight of the long scars was going to cost Lucius some serious peace in his home. Draco felt a dark satisfaction knowing this. Even though it wasn't the first time Lucius had laid hand on him and Narcissa had been aware of it, she had never approved of it.   
"You will have to face your father about your behaviour in front of our friends." she said, almost in a whisper. "But mark my words, I will be there watching him like a hawk."   
"I don't want to say another word to him again, ever!"   
Narcissa sighed, regaining her authority.   
"You are too much like your father!"  
"I'm nothing like him!"   
His mother had seen enough of that stubborness in her husband to know when to change direction.  
"So you claim to be gay." she said, matter-of-factly. "By choosing the time and place to inform us, you didn't just strike at your father, but at me as well."   
The thought hadn't come to Draco until now. He actually felt a sting of guilt over it, but the growing anxiousness was worse.   
"Are you ashamed of me, then?" he asked, meeting her eyes with uncaracteristic uncertainity.  
She looked stunned for a moment before rising from the bed and grasping his hands in a firm grip.   
"Look at me" she said, with a serious scowl. "I know better than to question your convictions. But it's a little more earth-shattering than you imagine."   
"I know my own family!"   
"Then you know that you need to modify your claim."   
"Then I would lie."   
"You better do as I say if you want to decrease your father's anger into reasonable proportions."  
"As if it would help!" Draco spat. "You saw the way he looked at me!"  
"Who's your boyfriend, then?"   
Draco felt as if the words had gone stuck in his throat. It was embarrasing enough to touch the subject with his mother, without mentioning the unmentionable.  
"I don't have one."  
"Don't lie to me."   
Draco averted his eyes.  
"I can't say. Dad is going to kill him."   
Narcissa pulled his hands lightly.   
"Then let's go down and hear what your father has to say. Remember, that before acting, he will have to go through me first."  
  
His father was in the great hall, seated in a black armchair by the fireplace. The meeting with Lucius was scary enough with Narcissa present, but Draco felt strengthened by having her support and didn't flinch as Lucius rose from his favorite seat with an intimidating stare.   
"You're grounded until the term starts." he hissed. "And meanwhile, we'll find out who you really are!"   
"It's true, father." Draco's voice was but a whisper.  
"I thought we had this discussion about truth." Lucius eyes promised horrifying penalties for the offense, but Narcissa kept an eye on her husband, standing with arms crossed behind Draco.  
"I'm sorry, father."  
"You are going to get back to school and find yourself a girlfriend. You will bear the name of Malfoy with dignity or not at all!"   
"I can't do that, father. I'm seeing someone."   
It was evident that Lucius would have gone to attack, there and then, if Narcissa hadn't been in the room.  
"And who might that be?" he said, with a murderous, silky voice.  
"It's Harry Potter, father and you can't stop me."  
Lucius went white and Draco heard his mother's half-quenched gasp. Narcissa stepped between them in a heartbeat.   
"Go up to your room at once, Draco" she said in her frostiest voice. "Your father and I have some very serious matters to discuss."   
"Yes, mother."   
As Draco made it up the stairs, a vindictive smile played across his face. It was a small comfort to have made the smarter move on his father, even though the game was far from over. But anything soothing his worst case scenario about Neville was welcome and Draco could tell from his mother's gaze that his parents wouldn't leave the great hall for many hours to come. 


	9. Foreplay

**CHAPTER NINE: FOREPLAY  
**  
_A virginal trembling hand   
Afrightened sacrificial lamb   
From a blinding light a shadow falls   
A code of silence quakes the halls   
A whisper to a piercing scream  
A love that's too frightening_   
-Dalbello-  
  
Neville ran across the quiddish field to make it to the toilets in time, before the Gryffindor team came welling in.   
He had been watching Harry and Ron as they practised on the eve of the coming match, or at least that's what he had told them. The truth was that the Slytherin theme had been there as well, both houses forced to share the field with each other since their teachers weren't cooperating when putting the teams on schedule. Draco had been there and that one glance they had been able to throw each other had been reward enough.   
A week had gone by since school started and they hadn't got the slightest chance seeing each other, even for a few minutes. Neville sighed at the thought. The new Inquisitor Umbridge at Hogwarts held their existence in an iron grip.   
As Neville hurried into the shower rooms and snuck into a toilet booth, he tried to imagine any solution to their problem, anyone at all. The frustration was growing, being left to spying on Draco at the lessons instead. And worst of all was potions, when professor Snape shot him an accusing stare as soon as he turned his eyes from the blackboard to the more tempting sight. If anyone could make Neville feel horribly guilty for his affections, it was Snape. And then Draco smiling at him, turning his cheeks even redder.   
Neville finished his toilet visit and was just about to leave the booth when someone grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open. Neville gave a start as his silent prayers had manifested in the doorway. Draco stood there, self-assured as usual, his entire position reminding Neville of a predator preparing to lay down its prey. His smile towards Neville and those glimmering eyes sent giddy streams through the Gryffindor's stomach and all the way down...  
"I'm back, Neville."   
"Uh...yeah, hi. H-how was your holiday?"   
Neville felt incredibly stupid, but his shyness overcame him. Draco stepped into the booth and closed the door behind them and before Neville could react, Draco had locked his arms around his waist and pulled him close so that their bodies were pressed to each other. Neville let out a little gasp as Draco laid his mouth very close to Neville's ear, whispering in the most seductive voice Neville had ever heard.   
"Why thank you, Neville, quite something. How was yours?"   
Neville's body reacted as if Draco had whispered something really dirty and it didn't help much that Draco let his hot tounge dart into Neville's ear as he tried to answer.   
"It-it was..."   
And the words were lost in a trembling sigh, as Draco sucked at his ear, his throat, his lips, leaving little toothmarks. Neville felt himself go limp in the Slytherin's arms. He rested his hands on Draco's arms, gripping the cloth with a shiver as he felt two strong hands clenching his buttocks.  
"N-not here!" he managed, his heart beating madly. "The team will be in any second!"   
Draco only let out a small, sadistic chuckle.  
"Then we'll have to wait here till they're leaving."   
The hands were stroking his buttocks just a little bit rough and Neville lost the fight against his own body. His erection was rising and there was no way Draco wouldn't feel it.  
Neville felt his back pressed into the wall all of a sudden and Draco's hands directed him to turn around, before grasping his hips.   
With a violent pull, Draco had his own hardness pressed against Neville's buttocks and Neville stood on trembling legs, bracing himself with his hands up against the wall. His cheeks were burning hot and his breath sounded uneven.   
Then those dangerous hands started to unbutton his pants.  
"Oh, please..." he breathed, not entirely sure of what he meant.  
But Draco's mouth was close to his ear again.   
"You're mine." Draco whispered. "It's only fitting that I mark you as mine, wouldn't you say?"  
Neville thought he would faint.  
"Draco" he whimpered.   
But his pants were pulled down and soon the gloved hands touched naked skin, fingers tracing the narrow cleft between his buttocks.   
"No..." Neville let the word out in a sigh, signalling the opposite to what he said.   
His face was flustered and his breathing fast and heavy. How could his legs even support him any longer? The wave of pleasure made his head spin, one part of him bending completely, another too frightened to let it continue. That leather-covered finger made a push against the small opening that sent a loud gasp out of Neville and a protesting sound, but he did not move.  
He couldn't.   
When this wicked leather stroke against his organ, teasing the tensing, throbbing sensation, Neville let out a surrendering moan. He could feel the explosion of his climax building up and drawing near. There was nothing else but those fingers on his sex, and the stroking of his...  
Then the fingers were gone. Seconds later, a strong grip held his hips fixed.   
Neville could hear the voices of the Gryffindor team at a distance, not knowing if he could abort this anymore.  
"Stand absolutely still."   
Draco's persuasive voice against his ear sent shivers through his spine. The kisses pressed against his back, the hands caressing him all over as the kisses went further and further down...  
"I can't hold back!" Neville whispered, almost in tears.  
"Oh, yes you can, and you will."   
When the hot lips came to an end exactly at the delicate curve before his buttocks and the wet tounge lapped at it playfully, his mind was blown.   
_I don't care, the Gryffindor team can go to hell, I'll stay on the toilet with him and we'll...  
_ The stinging pain took him by complete surprise. He cried out in shock, as Draco's sharp teeth cut through his flesh, sucking the wound mercilessly, scraping at it with his nails. Neville was shaking all over. His tears started to spill, but he obeyed Draco and stayed put in his exposed position, moaning and whimpering. He had to press his forehead to the cold tile to go through with it.  
As soon as it was over, Draco rose and wrapped his arms around Neville's waist, kissing him gently on the neck and the wet cheeks, and spoke silky words in his ear.  
"Mine." He repeated. "If there's ever any doubt, this will be the reminder for anyone who tries anything, till we meet again."  
With that, the hands released him and before he could turn around, Draco was out of sight, gone from the booth and leaving the building. Neville sank down at the toilet seat, jumping up with a start as the searing pain shot through him. How was he supposed to sit at the lessons? Still, he needed release and the burning mark at his buttocks added to his overheated senses. A few fast jerks were all it took to send him over the edge, imagining Draco's recent dominance over him.  
As the Gryffindor team made their way into the shower room, Neville snuck out as fast as he could, convinced that his voice or the colour of his cheeks would give him away if he stopped to speak to anyone.  
  
As weeks flew by, Draco came to regret bitterly that he hadn't taken Neville there and then, concealed from the showering Gryffindors. But he had spent so much time staking out what he wished to do to Neville and half an hour in a toilet wouldn't even get him properly started. And there was the burning matter of the mark on his left arm as well, causing anguish by the mere thought. How could he proceed any further with Neville without letting him know?   
So, as the perfectionist he was, he now had to suffer the frustrations of waiting it out.  
In Lucius' opinion, Umbridge was the best that had happened to the school since the basilisk in the pipes made its raids fifty years ago. To Draco, it only proved that his father was a lot more disagreeable than he had thought. Sneaking around the school had become nearly impossible since the new rules came into practise and the waiting was growing unendurable.   
There were only the small joys of seeing Neville squirm in classes, uncomfortable with sitting for a while, and the blush as Draco met his gaze.   
But the weeks dragged on and since Draco had such a central role to play in his house, he wasn't left alone for a second. And as if it wasn't enough, this Umbridge toad really seemed to like him and handed over heaps of responsabilities. And Neville walked in the company of Potter, always with Potter, talking, smiling and laughing.  
Draco noticed that he had started to bite his nails around them. Potter had all the quality time with Neville he could ever desire and Draco spent his with two blockheads, thankfully not informed by their parents about Draco's little show-off at the Christmas table. Pansy was after him worse than ever, leaving Draco with a feeling of a snare tightening around his neck.  
Something had to be done.  
  
Professor Snape was grading essays and laboration tests, as he heard the short knock by the door. He put the quill down and gave the door a threathening glare. If it was that Umbridge again, or twinkling Dumbledore with tea or anyone... well, nobody was really welcome right now.   
"Enter!" he barked, determined to let the visitor know it intruded.  
The meters went over in the red as Malfoy junior entered, wearing the omnious frustrated teenager face he had displayed since the term started. Snape's glare couldn't have been more cynical.   
"Make it quick" he snapped, noting how Draco's frustration only increased as he strode over to Snape's desk.  
"Professor" he began, "I need to ask you a great favour."  
Draco seemed to ignore the warning signals beaming from Snape.   
"I know this will sound a bit odd, but it's about Neville."   
_Surprise, surprise._   
"I figured." Snape answered in his coldest voice. "You also know my opinion about any involvement."   
"Please, professor, just hear me out."  
"Your time is almost up."   
"Neville's quite bad in potions, right? So, he could easily get a detention? And if you would need to leave the classroom for a while and I was sent in there to get something..."   
Snape's eyebrow shot up, his breath almost lost at the insolence.   
"Ten points from Slytherin!" he hissed out, rising from his chair.   
Draco looked as if he didn't know which foot to stand on.  
"But professor, I'd pay you if..."   
"Twenty points from Slytherin!"  
Draco drew in breath as if to protest, but so did Snape, fixing his gaze on his favourite student in a challenging stare, daring him to say another word. Draco looked down in defeat, nodding slowly, and pouted to express his disappointment. Snape was still shocked about the shameless suggestion and it angered him further that Draco would even have the nerve to look wronged in front of him.   
"Close the door behind you when you go." He said venomously.  
"Do you have any advice about what I should do, then?"   
"WHAT!?"   
Draco flinched at the outburst, taking a step back. Snape looked absolutely murderous, his eyes razor sharp.   
"What did you say?" Snape whispered, his voice as sharp as his eyes.   
Finally, Draco looked uncertain, hopefully knowing that he'd gone too far.   
"I'm sorry professor. I'll just go back to Dumbledore and explain that you wouldn't help me."  
Snape closed his eyes and opened them again.  
"Dumbledore told you to come here?"   
Draco nodded, watching Snape very carefully.   
"He also said that...you'd help me to make a good strategy, so that, uh, I could see Neville a bit more often."   
Snape let a scene of wishful thinking play before his inner eye, seeing how he strangled Dumbledore with his own beard, the old man choking on his tea before falling to the ground with his eyes fixed in an eternal twinkle...  
"Mr Malfoy. Go up to your room. We'll discuss this tomorrow at six."   
The tone of Snape's words sent Draco heading for the door very quickly.   
As the door was shut, Snape sat rigid with a disdainful sneer. Not only was he asked to nurse the ungrateful Potter in occlumency lessons every Monday, but now, Dumbledore had handed over another menace to deal with. Well, his headmaster was going to hear what he thought about it and no cup of tea in the world could save the red cheeked old man.  
  
Dumbledore stood in the doorway waiting for Draco, as he arrived to serve his detention.   
Snape had gone straight to his headmaster with Draco's impernitence and revealed it as the fake it was. And then, of course, he had a detention to serve for lying to a teacher and Draco just knew that Snape wouldn't want any hands in it.   
So, all he had to do now, was learning how to play the emotional strings of Dumbledore. Twin stars shone behind the crecsent-shaped glasses as his headmaster asked him in to his office.  
"Well, young Malfoy, it seems you keep coming back to this point."   
Even though Dumbledore sounded authoritive, he could not conceal a mysterious amusement in his voice. Draco wondered if the old headmaster was high on tealeaves. But Dumbledore continued talking as they climbed the stairs, now smiling openly in a parental way that made Draco nearly furious.   
"So, let me see... your plan is to coax me into ordering Snape to do as you wished, concerning the Neville affair."   
Draco held his breath for a second, before trying his innocent voice.  
"No, headmaster, I was..."  
"I'm afraid I'll have to make a slight change of plans."   
Dumbledore laid his hand on the doorknob to his office.   
"You will not serve your detention here tonight. Instead you will help Hagrid in the weekend, as you did last term."   
Draco's mouth opened in panic to nestle himself out of the inconvenience, but he never got to speak. Dumbledore had opened the door and in one of the chairs at his huge desk sat Neville, looking very anxious. Draco stared at him and Neville's eyes grew wide.   
"Well, in you go." Dumbledore ushered him on, still by the door himself.  
"You see" he continued, "tonight you and Mr Longbottom will be serving detention together. You will sit in here and contemplate your recent behaviour."   
Neville's cheeks went pure red. But Draco placed himself in the chair beside Neville, never taking his eyes of him as Dumbledore pointed at his desk.  
"Unfortunately, I will need to attend an important matter. I will be gone for...say, an hour. There's tea and lemondrops on the table. Feel free to help yourself."   
With eyes twinkling like mad, Dumbledore closed the door behind him with a meaningful smile and Draco and Neville was alone.  
Draco kept watching Neville, his lips curling into a smirk. So Dumbledore had seen through him.  
No matter. Dumbledore had still played him right in his hands and this hour was worth the weekend at Hagrids.   
Meanwhile, Neville looked almost destroyed and threw Draco a quick glance.   
"Wasn't that strange? How could he know about the toilet?"   
"He doesn't, Neville."   
Draco rose from his chair and took Neville's hand, urging him to stand up. Neville did so and threw Draco an annoyed frown, lips pouting.  
"Did you fix us into this? You're hopeless! Quite a place for a date!"   
Draco smirked, pulling Neville close. Only this time, Neville braced himself with his hands on Draco's shoulders, not to get too close.   
"Don't even try it!" Neville locked eyes with Draco, his warm eyes like thunderclouds. "You have the nerve after... after our last meeting! I haven't been able to sit properly for weeks and not even mentioning the sneaking in the shower rooms!"  
"Really, Neville. What did Potter think about it?"   
Draco's mouth moved closer to Neville's, but the angry Gryffindor wasn't going to give in so easily this time.   
"Harry? What has he got to do with..." Neville cut off the sentence and stared back at Draco, mirroring the suspicion.  
"Tell me you're joking!" he managed.   
Draco's eyes turned to poisonous slits.  
"You did share all secrets, didn't you?"  
Neville gave him such a hard push in the chest, that Draco staggered a few steps back. He quickly regained his dignified posture, ready to sting back.  
Neville glared at him, his voice seething with anger.  
"Harry's my FRIEND, Draco! What's WRONG with you?!"   
"WRONG!? You spent Christmas in the arms of Harry, sharing secrets with him!"   
"HARRY'S DATING CHO, DAMN IT! GET IT? A GIRL!"  
"IF YOU MISSED ME SO MUCH YOU COULD HAVE..." Draco fell silent, a balancing reflection entering his mind.  
Potter and Cho. Right.   
And Neville's angry, innocent face. And really. What could Neville have done if he wanted Draco there? After all, he was the one who had shared his Christmas meal with a bunch of hungry death eaters.  
Draco suddenly looked at his boots, then back at Neville, who stood there demanding reasonable answers.   
"Still" Draco muttered, "Harry had you for Christmas and I didn't."   
When Neville spoke next, he sounded so hurt that Draco felt a drop of acid hitting him with each word.   
"You are jealous at Harry and you bit me? And there I was, missing you so much I could die and you..."   
"Why, sorry Neville, next time I'll bite Harry instead!"  
"IF YOU DO THAT, I'LL CUT HIS BALLS OFF!"   
Neville stood gasping for breath and Draco almost did the same, but hid his shock with an arched eyebrow.   
"Neville...?" Draco eyed him suspiciously.  
"Do you think it was fun, spending Christmas in school instead of with a family? And then I went to see them, and they...they had to be locked into...because they..."  
Neville's eyes started to fill with tears. Draco needed no names to know that Neville was talking about his parents. He felt incredibly stupid. Still, the Gryffindor stood his ground as usual, fighting back the tears while following Draco's every move as he approached. Despite Neville's warning gaze, Draco didn't hesitate before closing his arms around his property. Within heartbeats Neville had done the same and it took a while before they spoke.  
"Wow.", Neville whispered. "We really need to talk more often."   
"You meant what you said about Harry's balls?"   
"Creep."   
But they looked up at each other and Neville was smiling at him!   
All sense left flew out the window. Draco leant close enough to let his tounge slip into Neville's mouth and as the kiss was answered, he simply swept the Gryffindor off his feet and sent them both falling down on Dumbledore's thick oriental carpets. Neville broke free from the kiss, staring up at the thriumphant Draco in panic.  
"What are you doing? Are you nuts?! Not in here!"   
Draco tried to sound casual, while hiding his smile.  
"Why not? Wouldn't that be something, losing your virginity in Dumbledore's office?"  
Draco started to suck at Neville's throat, but Neville squirmed too nervously, despite the sounds of consent he made.  
"Draco, we can't do this, I can't do this here, I can't..."   
Draco broke his sentence off with another kiss, struggling with Neville's tounge. Their tounges did wrestle, but Neville still held Draco close in a desperate grip, sighing as his hands slid down the Slytherin's back. This time, Draco went much gentler, taking his time to really feel Neville, with taste, touch and sight. After all, a great feast lay below him and he had enough manners to know that each little chew should be savoured.  
He really enjoyed seeing Neville so caught up in his struggle between reason and pleasure. He imagined all he could do, tying Neville's hands up, exploiting his weak spots mercilessly, until Neville begged him to...   
"Draco, please!"  
Draco started to untie Neville's robes.   
"Since you're asking..."   
"No!"   
Draco stopped and sighed.   
"Now what?"  
Neville was still gasping, but did his best to form words while blushing and avoiding his eyes shyly. The small gestures only fed Draco's fire, making it extremely difficult to hear every word through the trip of seeing the soft lips move, those dark, warm eyes searching for a safe place to look and the trembling hands, still nervously stroking Draco's back and hair.   
"Um...I want to, but not in here. It's like...a bit too much, with the bird- phoenix watching and all...and...Dumbledore could come in any second... "  
"And find you on your back with me between your legs?"  
"Stop it! Yes!"   
"Oh, what did you think the hour was for?"   
"Draco...!"  
Draco sighed and grabbed hold of Neville's chin to catch his eyes. Neville only drew a shivering breath, more out of desire than anything else.  
"Listen. There's no going all the way here. It would take me the entire night before I had finished with you. So, just relax and enjoy the ride."   
With this, Draco resumed the kissing, licking Neville's ear until the Gryffindor hardened from the exstacy, pressing his body against Draco's without any control. As for Draco, he revelled in his victory, keeping Neville on the painful border between tension and relieving. But he did keep his mind partly on the time. The chances of having Neville's knee revisiting his crutch were very high, would Dumbledore have entered the room.  
  
Draco had to gain all his will not to ignore the entire world when it was time to finish. Both on their feet, they stood tidying each other up, Draco fastening Neville's robes and Neville smoothing Draco's hair with his fingers. They couldn't stop their lips from meeting frequently.   
Between the kisses, Draco eyed Neville's thin, worn robes.   
"Why aren't you wearing proper winter robes? It must be freezing in those."   
"Some of us can only afford one set of robes."  
"Didn't your grandmother leave anything to you?"   
Neville looked down.   
"I'm not from a rich family, Draco. I don't have a father who could buy Diagon alley for me as a birthday gift."  
Draco kissed Neville's forehead.  
"Then the least my father can do is paying for some real good Gryffindor clothes, wouldn't you say?"   
Neville looked up in disbelief.   
"Yeah, right. How would you make him do that?"   
Draco just shot him the wicked smile.  
"Trust me. What he doesn't know, will keep him content."   
Then no more words passed between them since Dumbledore walked in, but that hot gaze Neville gave him, lasting but a heartbeat, seemed to cause a major meltdown in the icy landscape within Draco. And all the time, he kept every thought of the black mark on his arm under heavy repression. 


	10. Sex

**CHAPTER TEN: SEX  
**  
_Bring your chains   
Your lips of tragedy   
And fall into my arms   
And when our worlds they fall apart   
And the walls come tumbling   
Though we may deserve it   
It will be worth it_   
-Depeche mode-  
  
When Harry awoke into a chilly Friday morning, he was as curious as Ron to see the contents of the mystical present delivered to Neville.   
Harry had this sixth sense telling him that Neville's secret boyfriend was involved and his suspicions were only confirmed by Neville's uncomfortable squirming as he unwrapped the gift. Neville tried to send his two roommates down to breakfast before he opened the box, which resulted in having Harry and Ron hopelessly glued over his shoulders.  
Both of them had seen the fresh marks on Neville's throat the other day and Harry was nearly out of his mind to find out who it was. Ron was too, of course, even though he still believed Neville's secret passion to be a girl.   
The huge box in Neville's hand had the logotype for Madame Malkin's most expensive clothing written on it, and as the lid came off, Ron and Harry gasped.   
Neville's ears went very hot.   
"Wow! Who sent you these?" said an eager Ron.   
He was referring to the upper class-quality winter robes, including gloves, scarf and a goldgleaming Gryffindor mark sewn on it. Neville shook his head, while the heat spread to his cheeks.  
"I don't know" he murmured, feeling a little guilty for the lie.  
So Draco had actually done it.  
"There's something under it!" Harry urged.   
Neville lifted the robes and saw a couple of warm sweaters, socks and lastly a pair of black shining leather boots, covered with fur on the inside. Neville tried to regain his breath. The contents of the box were expensive enough to support Ron's father with two monthly wages.   
Harry's mind was working furiously. So, if it was from Neville's boyfriend, he had to be very rich. Now he had to pinpoint rich boys in the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor and then he had narrowed it down.   
"Did your girlfriend send you this?" Ron only gaped.   
"N-no, not really" Neville stuttered, his hand diving into the boot to feel its fur.  
A piece of parchment brushed his fingers.   
"She DID! Neville, you...why can't you tell us who it is?"   
Harry saw Neville squirm at the question and he quickly broke in: "C'mon Ron, let's have breakfast and then we'll come up with a plan to make him talk."  
Harry blinked at Neville and Ron jumped out of the bed, following Harry to the door.  
"You're not safe!" Ron said from the door. "We'll find out!"   
As the door was shut, Neville withdrew the parchment from the boot. With shaking fingers he opened it and read the elegant scripture.  
  
**The family was naturally moved to tears as I laid the suggestion before them.   
They all felt they wanted to compensate for the horrible discomfort they had   
caused you and thought this was the least they could do. The head of the family   
was particularily regretful and expressed a wish to compensate further.   
He just don't know it yet, so give the family some time for now to melt their sudden  
turn to charity. If you want to change anything, you can do it through me.  
  
See you soon  
**  
Neville couldn't stop the tears from falling. Draco had gone behind his family's back to keep him warm during the winter.   
He, Neville.   
How could Draco possibly care so much about someone like him? Draco was dead dropping gorgeous, rich and popular. He played in the quiddich team and had good grades in most school subjects. Why would he want to ruin a splendid future on the account of a failed orphan?   
_He'll come to his senses and regret it_.   
Or even worse.  
_He is manipulating me._   
But Draco had done a lot of very untypical, weird moves to steal but the slightest of time for them.   
And right now, this moment of feeling complete and loved was enough.  
  
Harry couldn't wait to get out of the potion's classroom.   
Snape had been particulary nasty to him this day and to everyone's surprise, Draco was harassed several times too. This only caused Draco to attack Harry, who seathed with the urge to give Malfoy what he deserved.   
After the lesson, as soon as the doors to the dungeon were shut behind them, Draco made a move to walk into Harry and push him aside, but Harry furiously gripped Draco's wrist and tried to force his arm up behind his back. Draco wrestled himself out of it and gripped Harry's hand instead. The Gryffindors and Slytherins had gathered around them, cheering them on.   
The doors to the dungeon opened just in time as the blood started to run in thick streams from Harry's nose and his mouth. Draco looked shocked. He hadn't even hit Harry yet.  
In a blink of an eye, Snape had separated them and Harry couldn't even protest as Draco was sent off and Snape dragged Harry into the dungeons, shoving Ron and Hermione off.  
  
"What's the meaning of this, Potter? What did you do?"  
Snape's voice was sharp as a knife as he pushed Harry down to a chair by the desk. Harry was cold with fury over the injustice, but his head started to spin and he felt feverish. The blood wouldn't stop running.  
"I'm bleeding dry here, you know!" Harry managed, coughing up a nasty bloodlump in his throat.  
But Snape had already opened a cupboard, selecting a tube from it.  
"Drink everything" Snape ordered, voice as cold as before.   
But Harry wouldn't take the tube.  
"And swallow your poison! No thanks! I want to see Madame Pomfrey!"  
"Before I break your neck, Potter, drink it."  
"I'll tell Dumbledore what you said!" Snape looked angered beyond limits. But his pale, scary features simmered and melted away into darkness.  
  
For once, Draco couldn't guess why he was called into Dumbledore's office this time.  
He had already told Snape that he hadn't touched Harry at all and numerous witnesses had confirmed it, even among the Gryffindors. But unpleasant thoughts about his father finding out about the purchases to Neville did haunt him. Was Lucius there to force him home?  
As he entered the headmaster's rooms, there were only Dumbledore and Snape present, both looking very serious. Draco placed himself obediently before them, waiting for them to ask him to sit. Dumbledore did a gesture to the chair, but his eyes didn't twinkle at all.   
Nervously, Draco sank into the chair.   
"Young Malfoy." Dumbledore started, voice as serious as his face. "This conversation will be held in confidence between you, me and professor Snape. No words spoken in here will leave this room. Understand?"   
Draco swallowed and nodded. Snape's gaze was extremely unsettling.  
"Now, I must ask you. Do you know what caused the heavy hemorrage from Mr Potter?"  
Dumbledore eyed him attentively.   
"N-no sir, I don't." Draco answered, wishing that Snape would stop staring at him.   
"Then I will tell you." Dumbledore answered, using his lecturing voice. "Dark arts has apperantly been used against him, of the sort we haven't seen since the days of Voldemort."   
An icy chill spread along Draco's spine.  
"Mr Potter is currently in the hospital wing. His very slow and painful death is held at bay by the combined efforts of Madame Pomfrey and professor Snape."   
Draco was glad he had been asked to sit down. His legs felt useless.   
So this was what it meant to be a death eater. The thought of his father actually killing Potter had never occured to him. Or maybe it had, but not really litterally until now. And to think how close he had been to telling his parents about Neville!   
The rising anguish was only fed by the heavy silence and the two pair of eyes resting on him.  
He had this mark on him. The same mark as his father had. The meaning of it was too engulfing. The other death eaters would expect him to be Lucius.   
Snape seemed to look right through him.   
"The spell can be averted if we knew who sent it" Snape said, matter-of- factly, using a certain weight in the words.   
"I didn't." Draco whispered. "Professor" he added, but Snapes disapproving gaze didn't fade.  
"I believe you, Draco" Dumbledore said, actually using his first name.  
"And I trust your hatred for Harry do not run as far as death."  
"It doesn't, headmaster." He said quietly. He didn't have to think twice.  
If Potter died because of something Draco had arranged, then it would be impossible to look Neville in the eyes again.  
"It is my father", he said. "I'm almost sure."   
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. Snape walked up to Draco, gliding soundlessly along the floor in the intimidating way only he could. He hovered over his student, hands on knees, to have his face really close to Draco's. Draco had to gain all his courage not to flee in panic as his potion's master burned his eyes through him.  
"And why would your father choose such a rash method?"   
The voice was no louder than a whisper, but Draco lost his self-control.   
"Because, because I told him that Potter was my...my...so that he wouldn't think that Neville...and Potter was hitting on Neville, or that's what it looked like and I didn't think it would, you know, I thought that maybe he'd only put Potter straight a bit, not...I didn't know!"  
"That...was...very irresponsible." Snape hissed, his usually cool eyes glowing with anger. It was all very confusing. Snape was a death eater, like himself and his father, right? Wasn't he supposed to be on Draco's side? But not in front of Dumbledore, of course.   
"I must agree with Severus here." Dumbledore said, looking at Draco's unhappy face. "But now that you know and learned your lesson, you had a chance of putting it all right again. And you did. For that, I respect you."   
Draco looked up from the floor to meet Dumbledore's eyes, just to make sure he had heard correctly. Did Dumbledore just say he respected him?   
"The curse may be lifted, now that we know. I'm so glad we got this settled. If you excuse us, we'd better attend to the making of the counter spell."  
Dumbledore suddenly beamed at him, with eyes twinkling and a friendly smile playing on his lips. Draco didn't know what to make of it.   
"But...what about my punishment?"  
"There has been enough of retribution for one day, wouldn't you say?"   
Dumbledore suddenly held a red shining metal jar, covered with gleaming gold stars, under his nose.  
"Here. Have a lemon drop or two. It helps."  
  
Within a week, Potter was back at the lessons and Draco secretly wondered if his father was all right. Counter spells could have nasty effects, depending on the intentions of their sender. But soon he had other things on his mind, as Professor Sprout declared that the class would have a field trip to the forest, collecting and studying early spring herbs in their home environment.   
They were supposed to spend a night in the wilderness, tenting, and Draco saw a big chance to steal time with Neville, since all fifth years of the four houses were to be present.   
And once and for all, he had to deal with the death eater thing.  
Neville was wearing his new robes now, making him more irresistable to watch than ever. Not only did the new clothes frame his beauty, but they also meant that Neville accepted Draco's claiming of him. If nothing else, he could tell by the glances he got, or the quick minutes of kissing in the lavoratories.  
  
As the day arrived, Snape and McGonagall worked as a scary team to uphold order among the eager students.   
Of course, Snape thought bitterly, nobody was eager to see any herbs or rare plants. They all just wanted to go out there and do their teenager things, making out and breaking as many school rules as possible. And he held three of his students under particular probation.   
If Potter, Malfoy or Longbottom gave him but one reason to send them home, it would compensate for this insufferable excursion. He knew all too well that his valuable evenings would be spent by a camp fire and professor Sprout would make the students sing camp songs.   
Ones with little green goblins and forest faeries in them.   
Snape never sang with them.   
There was nothing they could do to make him sing.   
Nothing.  
  
As the tents went up with numerous wavings of wands, Snape was alarmed by Malfoy's thoughtful glances towards the forbidden forest. It lay only ten minutes walk away from their camp and all students had been sternly warned not to get closer to it. Not that most students would walk in there voluntarily of course, but Snape had lost all confidence in Malfoy's wits.  
As the day went by, all students looked deceptively calm. But Snape knew better. They were saving it for the evening, as always.   
With Miss Granger present, it was as if having a third teacher. She held lectures for everyone standing nearby about all possible plants in the area, which resulted in points raining in for the Gryffindors. Snape had to plant information strategically on several of his Slytherins and order them to show off close to professor Sprout, just to keep up with the Gryffindor know-it-all.  
Then warning signal number two appeared, as the day came to a close and the students gathered around the camp fires.  
Draco passed Neville, a bit arrogant as usual, with Crabbe and Goyle as his accessoares. But Snape saw Draco stick a small piece of parchment in Neville's hand. The blush on Neville's cheeks said everything about the contents of the note. Snape let out a cynical sigh. Then he walked up to the gang of Slytherins and stopped right in front of Draco, giving him a scolding look. Everyone fell quiet around them.  
"No, you won't." Snape said, his voice icier than the North Pole.   
Draco stared back with a trace of uncertainity and blinked.  
"What?"  
"Not while under my responsability. You have been warned."   
With this, Snape left, content with seeing Malfoy's face as a mask of surprise. They always underestimated him and that was their fall.  
"Severus! Come quickly!"   
Professor McGonagall came running towards him breathlessly, using an impressive speed for her age. "It's Mr Jordan! He's been bitten by the cursed spider we ordered him not to bring!"   
Snape knew the routine by now. There was always at least one student bitten by a poisonous creature and all they had to do now, was to wait for the compulsory bone fracture.  
  
Back at the fireside, Draco threw one meaningful glance at Neville from across the flames. The Gryffindors and Slytherins were strategically placed opposite each other, with the other two houses in between. But Draco had chosen his spot by the campfire on account of the angle towards Neville.   
He had to be careful with the eye contact, though.   
Everytime he turned his eyes that way, Ron and Harry glared back as if being the Gryffindor version of Crabbe and Goyle. And since the rest of the Slytherins had gathered around Draco, Crabbe and Goyle glared back just as they should.  
Concerning Neville however, the message found home as Snape and McGonagall hurried away.  
Smirking, Draco stood up and explained to Crabbe and Goyle that he had to take a leak. Then he headed for the trees, the ones closest to the Forbidden Forest.  
  
"Look at that!" Ron sputtered. "Did you see how he was mocking you, Neville? That ugly git, I ought to dig his eyes out with my wand!"   
"Well, let him stare", Neville said, with a bit of uncertainty. "I need to visit the trees for a while."  
"No!" Harry said. "Wait a few minutes. Malfoy just went in there."   
"Um, yeah." Neville said. "Look, I really need to go, so, I'll be fine."   
Neville rose from the knotty stock they were sitting on.  
"Wait!" Ron shouted. "We should come with you. What if he tries something while you're out there?"  
Neville was grateful for the nightfall. It was harder to spot blushing in flames from a fire.  
"I'll be fine!" he answered, a bit irritated.  
Knowing that Draco waited out there made this conversation unendurable. And the teachers could be back at any second.   
"Be careful!" Harry said.   
With a deep sigh, Neville made it for the trees.  
Hermione eyed him knowingly as he entered the forest at the same direction as Draco.  
"Are you two stupid or are you just playing?" she said, shaking her head at Ron's and Harry's insulted faces.  
  
It didn't take Draco very long to spot Neville by the chosen place for their meeting.   
A huge base of an old oak stood as the only leftovers from a distant time when lightning had destroyed it. The place was very magical of course, having a myriad of purple-coloured mushrooms growing all over the place. Draco stepped out from his hiding and he would have smiled real viciously if he hadn't been so nervous.  
He had to tell Neville. Now or never.   
Neville looked back at him, filled with expectations and not as little nervous energy. Draco stopped for a second and stared at Neville, before walking up and catching him with the most desperate kiss ever. Neville almost lost his footing, but Draco held him steady and withdrew.  
"Come with me" Draco whispered. "It's not safe enough here."  
  
The journey into the forbidden forest was loaded with increasing tension. Not that any of them had the dangers of the place in mind, of course.  
Neville seemed very uncomfortable with the silence as they walked. When they reached the verge of the prohibited area, Neville couldn't help but whisper to Draco as they entered it hand in hand.  
"Do you remember the first time we were here? You sneaked up at me from behind, trying to scare my wits out!"   
"And I succeeded."  
"It was a real stupid joke!"  
"Admit you liked it."  
"Admit it was childish!"   
Draco pulled Neville's hand a bit harder. Hearing Neville moralising about it only gave the Slytherin a compulsive urge to desecrate him.  
The forbidden forest finally revealed a perfect spot, a small grove, surrounded by trees and bushes, with thick moss on the ground. Draco stopped outside it and swallowed. He closed his eyes for a second before turning to face Neville.   
"There is something I have to tell you." he breathed.   
Neville only looked at him with a bit of concern, obviously not near any thought of what Draco had to tell him.   
"I want you to know" Draco continued, "that it happened without my consent. And if I could change it, I would."  
The situation was absolutely nightmarish. He felt sick from it already. But he couldn't avoid it. Just for once, it felt crucial to come clean with it. Draco wasn't sure, but Neville seemed to look slightly paler and traces of some ominous fear had started to show in his delicate features, as Draco slowly withdrew the sleeve from his left arm.  
There it was, the ugly, scary mark, practically shining black with all its freshness.   
The sign of the Dark Lord.   
Neville cast one look and seemed unable to release his eyes from it. His face had lost all colour and his eyes were wide with shock. He seemed paralysed with fear for a moment that felt like an eternity. Then he took several unsteady steps back, shooting his eyes up at Draco.  
"You...tricked me...!"   
Draco could tell from Neville's short breathing that he was terrified, but there was a lot more to it. Never had Draco confronted such a hurt and accusing stare. Draco shook his head to answer Neville's statement.   
"No, Neville. It happened at Christmas." His voice sounded strange.  
Neville took another step back.   
"So this is a trap?"   
Draco tried remembering to breathe. It was awful seeing that disgusted look in Neville's face. It concerned him more than he had dared to admit.  
He carefully took a step towards Neville.  
"No, I said NO! Listen to me! I didn't want it!"   
Neville withdrew another step.   
"B-but you...we've been seeing each other since and you..."   
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't know what to say, I tried to figure it out, but..."  
Fresh tears were running down Neville's cheeks now. On instinct, Draco reached out his hands and walked closer. Neville took a leap back, quick as if his life was depending on it. He even made a frightened gasp.  
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"  
Draco stopped short, hating to feel his own hands tremble like that. Neville stood ready to run off, his entire composure beaming with icy resentment. But most of all, he looked completely destroyed.  
"It was just a game to you." he whispered between the tears.   
"NO! DON'T EVEN DARE TO THINK THAT!"   
Draco lowered his voice immediatly, seeing Neville flinching like from a blow. But he had to keep on speaking, anything to change the expression in Neville's face.  
"I want you and I mean it! If anyone tried to hurt you..."  
"Your kind took my family from me!"   
"I didn't!"  
"Your father did!"  
"I'M NOT MY FATHER!"   
Neville clutched his fists thight and though he spoke in no more than a hiss, his words struck hard.  
"But you're still a filthy, evil death eater, with the mark of ruining people's lives on you!"   
And with this Neville set off, running as if all the monsters of the forbidden forest were after him.  
Draco was torn between two raging sides. One wanted to run after Neville with all his remaining strength, holding him close while calming him, no matter if it took ten years. The other one was the cold, bitter voice of reason.   
_What were you thinking? How could you even imagine yourself in Neville's world?_   
Draco remained frozen on the spot, not knowing which way to turn. He finally fell back against a tree, sinking down to the ground while leaning his back against the trunk.   
How incredibly, incredibly stupid!   
The closer Neville came to the camp, the more he had to be reminded of what he had. Real friends. Looks. Honesty. Genuine character. And no need of people like Draco in his life.  
So now what?   
Draco pulled his knees up and supported the elbows on them, letting his head rest there for a while. He suddenly couldn't remember anything of value in his life anymore. His family, his heritage, the power and fortunes. Nothing mattered if Neville wasn't there. He would trade everything for another second with Neville, a warm embrace or just one kiss. He couldn't care enough if a werewolf or a stupid kentaur came rushing to eat him.  
The mark on his arm burned a little.   
_I'm the worst monster in this forest. If they dare show up, they'll be sorry.  
_  
The last thing Snape felt like dealing with now, was the disappearance of Longbottom and Malfoy.   
As he and McGonagall returned to the camp, it was clear that his two damned students had used the small gap he left them. He spat curses under his breath as McGonagall approached him after sending the students into their tents for the night.  
"Severus, I'm one student short. It's Longbottom again. That boy..."   
"...is in the forest with Malfoy." Snape finished, bitingly cynical.  
"Oh, dear!" McGonagall burst out. "I tell you Severus, if that upper class bully dare to touch my student..."  
"Longbottom won't mind that at all, I'm sure." Snape said, even more sarcastically.  
McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise.  
"What do you mean?"   
Then she threw her hand to her heart in a characteristic gesture.  
"Oh!"   
"My point exactly" Snape muttered.  
"Oh, but...but..."  
"Yes, I totally agree " Snape said, starting to walk towards the trees.  
McGonagall caught up with him and suddenly she blocked his way.   
"But Severus, this cannot be, it's...too much."  
"You don't say. We should fish them up from their hiding before this severe rulebreaking spreads like a disease across the camp."   
"But we can't do that!"  
Snape thought he saw twinkles in Minervas eyes, alarmingly similar to those of Dumbledore.   
"Minerva" he said sharply. "This unholy union has caused me more turmoil than I could possibly explain and they will not get away with it."   
"Don't you 'Minerva' me, Severus!" McGonagall had put her hands to her sides, eyening him threatheningly. "You, if anyone, must realise the potential of this union! A Malfoy with a Longbottom! Unheard of! But the political twist it causes..."   
"Politics or no", Snape interrupted, "they are our students and they are out there breaking school rules, putting their lives in danger on top of it. The school would not want such a reputation."   
"Does Albus know?"   
Snape bit his lip. Again he was reminded why he hated discussions with this woman.  
"He is aware." Snape said simply.   
"Well, then." McGonagall said in her most authorative voice. "I shall answer to him then for neglecting my duties and wait up for them. And if you try to stop me..." At this she waggered her wand at Snape's nose. "...Albus will know all about it!"   
Snape gave her a disdainful sneer. Frustrating enough, that was all he could do. Dumbledore had been through this with him, asking him to give the two teenagers as much room as possible. But Snape was sceptical. He knew what the mark on Malfoy's arm meant and especially what it meant to Longbottom. He didn't count on Draco's hormone-clouded wits to hide it. And so far, Snape had never met even one person accepting it for such an intimate relation. Not one.  
  
The cold fingers touching his arm took Draco completely by surprise. He had his wand ready before his eyes lifted to face...   
Neville.  
Impossible. But those warm sincere eyes, still wet with tears, had to be very hard for a forest trickster to imitate. Neville was crouching before him, still holding one hand on his arm and the other was reaching up to touch Draco's cheek.   
With trembling fingers Neville carefully wiped some old tears from Draco's eyes. And Draco hadn't even realised that he had been crying. He was too stunned to get a reasonable word out.  
"I'm staying" Neville whispered, new tears running down his cheeks. His voice still sounded devastatingly sad, but the cold resentment was gone. "I'm staying, cause I don't know what to do...without you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ran."  
If this was a forest monster, than Draco was truly in its trap now. He stared at Neville, not knowing if he could believe his own ears and not daring to move, in case he would destroy the moment.   
He just nodded, at a loss about how to express Neville's importance to him.  
With that, Neville let both his hands rest on Draco's cheeks and leant forward to have their foreheads touching.  
"Please, please be honest now." Neville whispered, even quieter. "Have you...recieved any orders yet?"   
"Nothing." Draco answered, just as quietly. "And I haven't done anything more than usual to anyone, if that's what you mean."   
Neville placed a light, trembling kiss on his lips. It sent a wave of heat through Draco, enabling his joints to come alive again. He rose from the ground, carefully grasping Neville's hands to make him follow. Then he put his arms around the Gryffindor, softer than he ever had before. Neville did the same and they looked at each other.   
Then Draco smiled a little, stroking his thumb along Neville's wet cheek.   
"Trust me?"  
Neville hid his face in Draco's shoulder, drawing a deep sigh. But Draco heard the quenched whisper leaving with the breath.  
"With my life."   
The last borders of resentment blew. Draco took hold of Neville's jaw, forcing his lips up to his own. Their tounges met in a craving, overheated kiss. The urge shot like highly strung arrows through every vein, causing Draco to drive Neville backwards into the small grove until it was safe to hit the ground. Neville only made a little moan as he landed on his back in the soft moss, with the full weight of Draco on him. Their lips reunited and Draco acted as the driving force, leaving Neville to breathless whimpers as he marked him on the throat again.  
The robes were removed from the warm body under him, maybe a bit too harsh, but no protests were made. Instead, Neville struggled with Draco's own robes, his trembling fingers making the process very difficult since Draco's sucking kept distracting him. As soon as the robes were untied, Draco grabbed Neville's wrists and nailed them to the ground with a sadistic smirk.  
"Poor little Gryffindor" he whispered, close enough to let his lips touch Neville's. "I really have you now."   
And the little Gryffindor's cheeks started to burn feverishly red, his skin prickling in response to Draco's persistant sucking of his ear. Then Draco grabbed both Neville's wrists with one hand, holding them put while the other hand playfully slid down Neville's chest, his soft stomach and past the limit of the forbidden. Neville sighed and struggled without any real strength.  
He made a start as Draco's fingers stroke his hardened sex, but the fingers didn't stay there too long.  
"You know what I'm going to do to you?" Draco whispered.   
Neville only had time to gasp in response, since the fingers were prodding at his tender, narrow opening. And this time they worked themselves in, stretching and stroking to Neville's rapturous moans. Neville lifted his hips to meet every little jab, his muscles cramping around the fingers as if they had a life of their own. All sense of self-control was obviously lost.   
Draco's own sex was throbbing and tensing enough to be painful and he knew this first game had to be quicker than calculated. After all, they had the entire night.  
He kissed and sucked and bit Neville intensily while his fingers rode him, until he heard the yielding words, drunk from the pleasure.  
"Draco, oh, please..."   
"You want me to take you?"   
"Oh, yes..."  
"Say it."   
Neville's face was flaming red and turned even redder at the demand.   
"Um" he gasped, his voice very shaky. "T-take me?"   
Draco drove his fingers even deeper, glaring scornfully at Neville.   
"You didn't say 'please'."   
"Please take me, Draco!" Neville's voice was but a whimper, his breath coming faster as Draco drew out from him, releasing his hands and bent down to steal a long, deep kiss.  
Then Neville released a sigh, his mouth still locked with Draco's, as he felt his rectum being worked again, this time with something cool and slippery, giving the fingers easier access.   
Draco caught Neville's wrists as soon as he was finished preparing and faced him with a triumphant, vicious smirk. Again, one hand held Neville's arms fixed to the ground above his head and another stroke his organ until Neville was moving his groin in time with Draco's hand.  
The wicked pleasure disappeared for a moment and Draco had barely whispered 'relax' into Neville's ear, before Draco's stone hard sex were driven into him, two fingers preventing Neville's contracting reflexes from stopping it.  
Neville gasped aloud, releasing a tortured cry as one last hard thrust sent the full length into him. He squirmed from the pain, whimpered and sobbed, but had no will to be released. Draco kissed his tears, his mouth, his eyelids until the throbbing, stinging pain surrendered to the exstacy of feeling Draco inside of him finally. The hand was working him again, and as Draco started to move inside him with hard, hot thrusts, claiming him completely, Neville lost himself in the vicious desire, caught between insufferable torment and unendurable pleasure.   
The world was spinning, the earth seemed to move under him.   
Nothing else was real but the two of them.   
Draco could tell from the tiny spasms in Neville's sex that he was very close to his climax. He was grateful for it, since it was impossible to hold back any longer. The little noises Neville made would have done it alone and knowing that he stripped the Gryffindor from his virginity, integrity and senses all at once, made the tight, hot union with Neville mean more than a thousand surrenders.   
Dripping from the extertion, he breathed into Neville's ear.  
"Do it. For me. Show me who owns you."   
No more was needed to send Neville into the liberating relief and hearing the soft cries from the exstacy, Draco went over the edge and emptied himself into Neville, straining very roughly against the body below him. He released the hands, which immediatly clung to his back to draw him nearer, to hold on as if their lives were at stake.   
As the explosion finally died out, leaving a lingering dreamlike state behind, a very intense kiss was shared.   
Draco rolled to the side, dragging Neville with him since he had neither pulled out of him nor broken their close embrace.  
  
Neville's hands were caressing his back, his fingers softly tracing the evil scars until Draco felt shivers through his spine. He kissed Neville hungrily, stroke the curls of his hair and the soft neck. His hands wandered down to the smooth firm buttocks. Neville's legs were still wrapped around him, unable to do anything else until Draco decided to withdraw his sex. He let a finger examine the opening, sending fresh moans of pain out of Neville, who flinched from the touch. Draco stopped and studied his finger, seeing drops of blood on it. He held it up for Neville to see.  
"I should pull out."Draco whispered.   
"Not yet" Neville replied, making it sound like a shy plea. "I want to feel you inside me, just a little longer."   
Their foreheads came together, resting against each other. Draco thought he would go insane from Neville's irresistable innocence.   
_It's not me controlling him, it's the other way around and he can't even see it.  
_ "Draco?"   
_Yes, you can have my soul for free_.  
"What?"   
"What happened to your back?"   
The question was put forth very carefully, but the dark eyes stared directly at him, demanding to know.  
"It's not a topic I'd like to discuss."  
"It was your father, wasn't it?" Draco heightened an eyebrow in surprise at the sharp conclusion.  
"I said I'm not discussing it, Neville."  
Neville stroke his cheek without breaking their eyecontact.  
"I just care a lot for you, that's all."   
Draco was amazed over the unexpected persistance and frankness the Gryffindor could express, always when it was least expected. For once, Draco felt like squirming from the touch, unaccustomed to deal with such exploiting of weakness. Neville seemed to understand it and kissed his eyelids with such tenderness, that the cold wall upheld about the subject was threathening to break.   
"It's a lot about pressure." he heard himself say. "That you have to be perfect without a mind of your own and if you step out of line for any reason, revealing flaws or...even think for yourself..." It was a relief saying it out loud, easing the heavy, old tension that seemed to have been with him forever. And Neville made it feel safe and simple.   
Draco suddenly saw where Neville was his superior. Emotions never seemed to scare this Gryffindor and he had an integrity made of stone about his emotions, showing them off as if they were his greatest strength, his most powerful weapon. And for Draco, who viewed any display of feelings as great weakness, it was sort of scary, but nonetheless admireable. Draco flashed a smile at Neville's serious face, seeing him turn confused and a little uncertain.  
"But you'd rather have parents like that than none at all, right?"   
"I guess." Neville answered in deep thought. "I'm not sure."  
"Oh, I am." Draco said. "Because everything has advantages. And my mother is really cool. You should meet her."   
Draco reflected over what he had just said. Complete madness. But he was alone with Neville and at least for now, they could pretend that anything was possible.   
"I'd like that." Neville said quietly. "If she could prevent herself from strangling me."   
"She wouldn't hurt you if I told her how important you are to me."   
Damn Neville! Now he made Draco spill his guts over the moss as well!   
"How important am I then?" Neville whispered, lowering his gaze.   
Draco quickly found the perfect way to avoid the answer by kissing Neville, digging his tounge deep down Neville's throat. The advance was answered and soon enough the burning desire had worked itself up again. Draco felt himself grow hard again inside Neville, pressing the virginal tightness to the limit. Neville groaned, his cheeks heated with fever from conflicting sensations. Draco rolled on top again, moving with small playful thrusts to watch Neville's reaction. It obviously hurt, but Neville grew all the harder.   
Draco grasped his hand and put it on the Gryffindor's own sex.  
"Now, you do it." he whispered, his voice very commanding. "I want to see it."   
It was a real treat seeing Neville so utterly embarrassed.  
"I-I can't!" the Gryffindor pleaded, searching for mercy in Draco's malicious eyes.   
"Why, Neville?" Draco leaned down and bit his lip a little punishing. "You have played with yourself before, haven't you?"   
"Y-yes." The answer sounded a little frightened.   
He gave Neville a stern gaze.   
"Do it! You're mine. Show me your secrets."   
Accepting defeat, Neville started to obey, blushing furiously as he touched himself under Draco's sharp observation. Draco moved deceptively soft inside Neville, tounge-kissing his ears so intensily that the curly-haired boy seemed to forget to breathe. Then Draco watched the hand move faster, along with the short breathing, and smiled victoriously while biting and licking at Neville's nipple. Loud moans were rising from Neville as Draco started to stroke his balls lightly with his nails.  
"You know what?" Draco whispered in his ear. "When you've finished, I'm going to fuck your brains out. Completely. You better not keep me waiting too long."  
There was no need to wait after the last whisper. Neville thrust into his own hands, spilling his seed over them as Draco watched with a pleased smirk. Neville was trembling, looking down at his hands as if he didn't realise what he had done until now. Draco dipped a finger into the white liquid and pressed it to Neville's lips.   
"Were you enjoying yourself, Neville?"   
Neville carefully parted his lips to suck at the finger, his heart beating very fast.   
Draco started to direct him to roll over, while he was still impaled with Draco's craving sex.  
"On your stomach!" he hissed, hearing Neville moaning from the pain as the command was fulfilled. Draco seized his wrists harshly and forced them down to the ground. He rode Neville with hot-tempered thrusts, hearing the loud cries answering to it. Then he stopped for a moment, licking a salty tear from Neville's cheek.  
"Can you take it?"  
"I _want_ it!" Neville sobbed. Draco kissed his cheek before continuing and bit hard into the nape of the neck, leaving bloodred marks. Then he stopped again for a second.  
"Have you ever thought about me while jerking off?"   
Neville tried to catch his breath to answer.   
"Yes!" he gasped.  
"When?" Draco made a hard nudge at the question.   
"Ow!" Neville cried. "At...the toilet that time...when you..."  
"Really?" Draco's voice was silky, contradicting his actions completely. "What else?"  
"Other times, in t-the dormitory, at night..."   
"What? In the same room as Potter?" Draco drew out a bit, only to make a violent thrust in again, sending a new cry of pain from Neville.   
"He didn't...he...was... asleep! Please!"   
"Well, I'll make sure you still feel me inside of you the next time!"   
With this, he kept on pounding Neville savagely until the strong pulls of the climax came visiting again, sending him into an intense delirium before loosening its grip.  
There they lay, gasping together and blending the wetness from each other's bodies, until the chilly air made itself reminded. Draco carefully pulled out of Neville and drew their robes over them, while grasping his wand and murmuring a spell to get a room temperated heat around them.  
He held Neville close, caressing his hair and back very tenderly, while kissing the tears away. Neville curled up inside his embrace, snuggling as close as he could and put his arms around Draco too. They were both exhausted and Draco felt sleep creeping over him, seeing Neville already halfway into dreamland.  
But before that, Draco had to make sure.   
"Did I hurt you...a lot?"   
Neville held him tighter for a second.   
"Oh, yes. You're a total monster."   
Draco looked at Neville and saw a very content smile on his lips.   
_What does it take to break a Gryffindor?_   
Needing no more, Draco drifted into deep sleep, feeling Neville's heartbeats against his skin.  
  
Waking up inbedded with Neville's body heat was delicious. Neville was still asleep and a bit drowsily Draco realised that something had disturbed his sleep. The sound of somebody clearing his throat startled Draco enough to jump up with the wand in his hand, staggering before gaining balance, to face the intruder. First he saw only an enormous belly through the early morning darkness.  
Then the thick, unruly beard of Hagrid was seen below the black, shocked eyes looking down on him. Draco thought he would explode, seeing Hagrids clumpsy attempt to hide his embarrassment, as if nothing was strange.  
"Hum, good mornin' I guess." Hagrid blurted out. "Really nice moon out, a bi' chilly, bu' not bad at all."   
Draco glared as murderous as a wolf disturbed in its den.  
"What do you want, Hagrid?" Draco hissed, making his voice sharper than a knife's blade.   
"Oh, nuthin' I was, you know, out seeing to mine friends 'ere an' there you were an' I sort o' went: But aren't these kids supposed to be in tents away from the forbidden forest? 'S your tent broken? An' aren't you cold?"   
Draco realised that he was standing sheer naked, his hair looking a mess. He hated to be stripped of his dignity like that in front of Hagrid of all people. Behind him, Neville started to rub his eyes to see what was going on.  
"I assure you that our tents are highly functionable, thank you."   
Draco pronounced the last words with a weight meaning 'leave', but Hagrid was obviously not catching any kind of hints. Neville had gone into his characteristic blushing, wrapping the robes tightly around him.   
"Hello Hagrid" he piped.   
"Uh, hello ,Nev. Nice seeing you."   
Draco kept on glaring at Hagrid, hoping that he might pick up the hint before the night was over. "Hum, anyway" Hagrid said, scratching his head. "di' you get a permission to be ou' here?" "Not really." Neville answered very quickly, before Draco could open his mouth. "It's kind of a secret and, um, it would be great if you wouldn't tell anyone. Please?"   
"Oh, o-of c-course", Hagrid stuttered. "Yeah, I see tha', and you can count on me bein' silent as a rock. Though there was a rock I heard once..."   
Now both Draco and Neville looked equally uncomfortable.   
"Yep, okay, no problem then." Hagrid said, straightening himself up. "I'll jus' be off, checking the kentaurs an' such. Yep, the kentaurs. Good mornin'."  
"Good morning." Neville answered.   
They watched as Hagrid's back disappeared into the darkness before saying anything. Then Draco sat down by Neville again, angrily putting his wand aside.  
"Unbelievable. What made him think I wanted to hear even a word about the weather?"  
"He was nervous, Draco. He didn't know what to say. You're being too hard on him."  
Neville started to pull Draco with him down into the robes again.  
"You won't say that when he has spilled it to the entire school."  
Neville sighed.  
"If it was Crabbe or Goyle, you wouldn't have been that upset. But Hagrid's my friend." "Crabbe and Goyle aren't really my friends." Draco said, realising it was the truth as he made the statement.   
Neville raised his eyebrows.   
"Then what are they?"  
"There more like..."  
"...your sidekicks?" Neville smiled at him, trying not to laugh. "Wow. Imagine me with sidekicks!"   
But Draco didn't smile back. He started to brood about if he really had any friends. Followers he had plenty of, but friends? Did he even want friends?   
Neville stopped smiling as he saw Draco's serious face.  
"Friends mean taking too huge a personal risk" Draco concluded.  
"Like the risk I took when I returned to you after seeing...this?"   
Neville touched his left arm, rubbing it lightly with his thumb. When Draco didn't answer, he bent down and placed a soft kiss right on the mark. Draco shivered when he did, amazed that Neville wanted to touch something that repulsed even Draco himself. Then Neville's lips caught his mouth instead, his arms closing him in a very tender embrace.   
Draco pressed him close, not ever willing to let go again.  
  
The sky had suddenly changed into a dangerous colour, warning them that the sunrise was on its way. Draco had no idea how long they had been making out, but both of them were hard as rocks and needed to relieve their tensions before returning to the camp.   
Draco turned Neville around, pressing his sex to the sore buttocks without entering him. Neville probably wouldn't walk straight without pain for a week anyway and he had another idea in mind. He closed his hand over Neville's pounding sex, teasing it until Neville begged him for release. Smiling, Draco tugged on his ear.   
"Who owns you?"   
"You, oh, don't stop, don't..."   
But Draco held back for a second.   
"If I do you this favour now, will you do me one in return?"   
Neville groaned in frustration.   
"Yes!"   
"Anything?"  
"Anything!"   
Smiling even wider, Draco helped Neville to reach the peak, revelling in the hot seed clinging to his fingers. As Neville still lied gasping on the ground, Draco got to his feet and dressed very quickly. Neville was about to do the same, but Draco shook his head reproachfully.  
"Not yet. You promised me something first."   
Smiling, Draco led Neville by the hand to one of the trees in the grove. Casually, Draco leant against the trunk while forcing Neville down to his knees before him.   
"Now" Draco said, in a typical arrogant voice, while untying his robes just enough to pull out his hard organ, "you make sure not to spill a drop."   
A little red on the ears, Neville grasped it, but Draco made him let go and directed it to his lips instead.   
"O-oh" Neville breathed, before taking it into his mouth, trying to suck its full length while Draco gripped the curls on his head and directed it in a good pace. Neville's trembling hands gripped his robes and the small whines coming from the kneeling boy gave Draco a real trip. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the warm wetness of the lips, the tounge working and struggling to please him.  
"Very good." Draco whispered, trying to keep his breathing in check. "Now, you have to take everything into your mouth. We both want my robes to be spotless at the camp, right?"   
Neville could only moan for an answer and as Draco entwined his fingers harder into Neville's hair, he made several sharp thrusts into the hot mouth, emptying himself to the very last drop. He made a satisfied growl before releasing Neville's head, smiling wickedly at Neville's confusion whether to swallow it or spit it out.   
Draco leaned down and caught his head between his hands.   
"You have to swallow a little of it", Draco said. But just for tonight, you can let the rest out."   
Then he kissed Neville on the forehead, walking over to fetch his lover's robes, while leaving the Gryffindor to his business. He just couldn't wipe the smile from his face.   
As all garments were in place, they embraced each other tightly before heading back to the camp. None of them seemed to take the initiative to let go.   
"What will you say to Mcgonagall?" Draco whispered.  
"Don't know." Neville answered. "That we got...lost? And what will you say to Snape?"  
"That very, very forbidden things happened in the forbidden forest."   
They both laughed quietly, but went serious in a heartbeat.   
"So now what?" Neville asked, anxiously.  
"So now you're mine and nothing will change it."   
"Draco, I really, really like you..." Neville's gaze flickered. "I mean...I love you."  
Draco thought he would drop dead.   
He couldn't bring himself to speak for once, only capable of holding Neville closer. One last kiss and they started to head for the sounds of the awakening camp, Draco giving serious thoughts to amputating a part of his left arm, before his vanity shoved it aside.


	11. Confrontation

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: CONFRONTATION  
**  
_And you put on a wonderful show   
But do you really, really think I don't know you,   
Black and white boy?_   
-Crowded house-  
  
They had nearly reached the camp when Snape and McGonagall came walking towards them.  
Draco spotted the weary, dangerous up-all-night look on Snape's face immediately and decided to cooperate with everything the head of his house would say.   
McGonagall only fixed them sternly with her steel grey eyes and Draco realised without looking at Neville, that his Gryffindor was blushing severly.   
"Do you know what time it is?" McGonagall asked, not really expecting an answer.   
"I'm sorry, professor" Neville murmured, sounding very sincere.   
Snape glared at Draco with promises of dire consequences, but the usual scolding look was mixed with something else, reminding Draco of...bitterness?   
"What did I tell you?" Snape hissed, low and threathening.  
Draco was tempted to point out that Snape hadn't been specific, but one glance at his professor warned him that any overstepping of boundaries would mean a punishment ten times worse than his father could ever come up with.   
So Draco just hung his head a little, looking at his feet and hoped that he seemed regretful enough.   
"Where were you?" Snape demanded, mercilessly. "Spit it out!"   
Both Neville and Draco stood in frightful silence, not daring to say a word, but McGonagall stepped in to the rescue.  
"I suggest we have this discussion tomorrow." she said. "Mr Longbottom, you may go to your tent."   
"Thank you, professor" Neville whispered, grateful to be released from Snape's burning stare.   
With one slight touch of Draco's hand he wandered back to his tent, turning only once to meet Draco's reassuring gaze.   
"Mr Malfoy, you should be in bed too." McGonagall continued. "The students are to rise in less than an hour."   
Draco made a nod, ready to walk off, but Snape's lips curled into a really mean smile.   
"No, Mr Malfoy, I'm afraid not." he said, way to smoothly.  
"Minerva, if you don't mind, I'll handle my own students."   
McGonagall and Snape exchanged glances and McGonagall turned away and shook her head.  
"It's your choise, Severus. I'm going to catch the short sleep I might have before breakfast."   
Then she looked meaningfully at Snape, as if warning him, and returned to her tent.  
Draco stood frozen on the spot until Snape told him to follow. They walked until they were out of earshot from any of the tents and then Snape grabbed Draco's arm, pulling it very harshly.   
"What do you think you are doing?"   
Draco really didn't know what to say. His rulebreaking was too blatant and obvious for words to defend it and he only hoped whatever punishment to come would be swift, since he was exhausted.   
"You realise", Snape said in a whisper "what you've exposed Mr Longbottom to, if he's seen the mark?"  
"He didn't see it!" Draco lied, his heart suddenly working faster.   
"No?" Snape raised an eyebrow sceptically. "However, your secrets will be read as an open book by the Dark Lord the moment you approach him. Did you take that into consideration?"  
Draco went paler than before. Snape's words struck home and Draco suddenly felt truly scared. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He hadn't been given even one thought to the mind gifts of the Dark Lord.   
Snape shook his head slowly, clearly reproaching.  
"One mistake could bring your fall, causing Mr Longbottom to fall with you in the blink of an eye. And you just made that mistake."   
Draco looked up at Snape in despair, giving him the most pleading gaze ever. It couldn't have been that good only to be destroyed this easily, by one fatal mistake. All kinds of bribery fluttered through his mind, but Snape had proven himself intact to it and even worse, Snape was a member of the Dark Lord's inner circle, fanatically loyal to the cause. All that was left now, was to grab Neville and run for it, if he could only get away from this horrible confrontation.   
"I know what you're thinking." Snape said. "The Dark Lord have ways of finding his servants wherever they may be. Which brings us to the crucial point: Are you going to take precautions?"  
"He doesn't mean anything to me, professor." Draco tried. "I'll just find a spell to hide my thoughts if my memories leads The Dark Lord to believe anything else."   
Snape pulled his arm again, as if he wished to shake Draco sane.  
"If you cannot even make your lies convincing enough to me, then how do you expect The Dark Lord to believe you?"   
Draco fell absolutely silent, forgetting to breathe while trying to hold his mask of indifference in place. Snape's eyes told him it was absolutely useless.  
"So" Snape continued, his voice cold with dislike, "How are you going to protect your mind?"   
"I'll find a spell, I'll..."   
"No."  
"But..."  
"I said NO, Malfoy!"   
Snape had that sneer again, showing how fed up he was with everything.  
"If you think I'll let you continue your rulebreaking by another dull-witted adventure, you are gravely mistaken."  
Draco got chills from the caustic voice and Snape's tone grew more poisonous than ever as he continued.   
"This will not do. Starting on Tuesday next week, you will attend my office six o'clock for occlumency lessons."   
Draco took a few seconds to reflect, before remembering what occlumency was. It actually looked as if Snape wanted to help him!  
"Thank you, professor." Draco said, drawing a deep sigh of relief.   
"I couldn't care less about your gratitude." Snape sneered, releasing Draco's arm contemptously. "Your father will stay out of this, because if you involve me in any sort of personal situation due to your little games, I assure you that the Dark lord's presence will be a lot safer than mine."  
  
Neville was yawning all the way to the tent. He was beyond tired and beyond worried about any consequences for their nightly escapade. Even an expulsion didn't seem too bad, considering that Draco could visit him easier then, if he was away from Hogwarts.  
He crawled into the tent as silently as he could, not to awake Harry and Ron. Smiling at the dull ache in some very private parts, he snuck into his sleeping bag with his robes still on. He wanted the smell of Draco close while falling asleep, imagining them still entwined in each other's arms.  
But he never had time to lay his head on the pillow.   
A hand touched his arm, giving him a real start.   
Harry was awake, his green, almost glowing eyes, seriously fixed on Neville's.  
"Oh, Harry!" Neville whispered. "I didn't think you were awake."   
Neville shot him a nervous smile that quickly faded as Harry frowned at him.   
"Where have you been, Nevvy? We've been worried to death, as both you and Malfoy went missing in the same direction."   
Harry's voice didn't sound as worried as accusing.   
"I...got lost." Neville said, averting his eyes. "Look Harry, can we talk about this tomorrow?"   
"No, Neville, we can't!" Harry hissed, sounding too much like Snape.  
In the gloom, Neville saw Ron coming to life, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.   
"Where the hell were you, Neville?" Ron whispered, as his eyes landed on the newly arrived Gryffindor.  
"Uh, look guys. I'm really tired..." Neville shyly looked at his pillow.  
Neither Ron nor Harry seemed to listen. Ron stared at his neck and Harry took hold of Neville's arm. Not a hard grip, but a very demanding one. Neville's heart started to race a little, as he was too tired to hold his ground efficiently against his classmates.  
"Just answer me this." Harry said, very slowly. "Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that Malfoy is not your boyfriend?"  
"Stop it Harry! What are you talking about?" Neville said, very sternly.   
But he felt his hands starting to tremble. Harry whispered his next words very quietly, but seething with anger.   
"I saw you!"   
Neville blinked. Then he swallowed, before his own temperament rose.  
"So what, Harry? Do you think you know anything about him?"   
Now it was Ron's turn to react. He looked completely freaked out.   
"NOWAY! Tell me you're kidding!"   
"Have you lost your mind?" Harry almost yelled at Neville. "Has he brainwashed you so much, you've forgotten why you hated him in the first place?"   
"_You_ hated him!" Neville yelled back. "You never wanted to give him half a chance, 'cause everything is about what Potter thinks!"  
Harry's eyes shot daggers at him.   
"What about your parents then, Neville?"   
"He didn't do this to them." Neville whispered. "He can't help he's got parents like that."   
"Tell me you're kidding." Ron echoed.  
"Oh, and he can't help he's a walking asshole, terrorizing the school with his bullying attitude to everything that's in sight, including you?" Harry said in a mordant voice.  
"He's changing Harry, just give him a chance!" Neville snapped.   
Ron clasped his hands to his head in frustration.   
"Tell me you're kidding!"  
Harry spoke in a very Snapeish hiss next.   
"His kind murdered my parents and they've raised him to be every inch like them and he is and he will be!"   
"THEY TOOK MY PARENTS TOO!"   
Ron and Harry flinched a little and Neville wasted no time to tell them off, now that his fury was lit.   
"You just can't judge him for something he hasn't done! Not even you are that thick! And Dumbledore has approved of this Harry, he helps us. Now tell me that he is wrong!"  
"Oh no..." Ron said, letting his hands fall down to his lap again.   
"Can't you see it?" Harry spat, his voice rising as well. "The Malfoys are such a clever, sneaky, traitorous breed! He's tricking you, Neville! And if Dumbledore is in on it as you say, then he has tricked him too!"  
Ron broke in, his voice shaking.   
"I just have to ask... You and Malfoy, you haven't, like...the marks on your throat..."  
"Yes, Ron!" Neville said, his voice sharp as a knife. "We've done it and I really mean_ we've done it_!!!"  
The silence almost echoed in Neville's ears. His two roommates were staring at him with such horror that he thought their eyes would pop out of their sculls. Ron's face was redder than his hair.  
There was no end to the disappointment he felt about them. But oddly enough, he stole all control from them, feeling superior to Harry for once. The-boy-who-lived were unable to handle something that Neville could deal with. And that added not as little to Neville's growing self-assurance.  
"You want to know what we did?" he provoked. "I bet the both of you have still to discover what I'm talking about."  
Harry shook his head.   
"You're out of your mind, Neville!"  
Ron's face had turned slightly green.   
"I'm gonna be sick", he said in a faint voice.   
"Be that way then." Neville said with finality. "You can't change what we feel for each other and if you won't listen, then don't talk to me about it."  
He turned his back on them, creeping into his sleeping bag again, determined to shut them both out. This was the best night in his entire life and they were not going to ruin it for him. But deep inside he was badly hurt that his two close friends couldn't accept something that mattered to him so much.   
"You saw them do it, Harry?" Ron's voice was full of pity and disgust.  
"No." Harry said. "But it made him talk, didn't it?"   
Neville bit his tounge not to start shouting at Harry again, but he couldn't prevent himself from making a venomous remark.   
"You use tricks worthy of a Slytherin and you blame Draco?"   
Harry was over him in less than a second, pulling him up from the cover by his robes. Neville grabbed Harry's wrists, to make sure he wouldn't be hit next.   
"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!" Harry bellowed, looking just as enraged as he had done in the train compartment on their way to Hogwarts.   
"A SLYTHERIN, HARRY! GO ON, HIT ME TO PROVE HOW RIGHTEOUS YOU ARE!"  
"IF ANYBODY'S A SLYTHERIN, IT'S YOU!"   
"Harry's right!" Ron agreed. "You have betrayed your house and you expect us to just take it?!"  
Neville let his gaze move back and forth between them. He had feared but not believed the reaction would be so hostile. It was quite scary. Harry looked as if he was actually going to hurt him and Ron's face was twisted into a mask of complete disgust.   
The rescue came from the most unexpected source of them all.  
"POTTER!"  
A familiar, bitingly cold voice rang from outside the tent.   
Harry let go of Neville as a pure reflex and Ron went pale.   
Snape's voice continued, low but very audiable.   
"You are waking up the entire camp. Move out of that tent with your sleeping bag, NOW."   
"Aawww, the bastard!" Ron groaned.   
"Detention, Weasley." Snape said. "And twenty points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher."  
Harry started to move out of the tent, cursing under his breath, while Ron bit his lip to keep quiet. Neville drew a sigh of relief, but his stomach ached worse than ever. Judging the look Ron gave him, it was as if Neville were conspiring with Snape.  
"I will not let your inherited arrogance and self-occupation affect the other students." Neville heard Snape say.  
Harry started to protest, but Snape threatened him with further withdrawal of points and only murmurs were heard in response. Outside, the heated discussion died out, as Snape obviously led Harry away from the tents. Not another word was spoken between Ron and Neville as they lay down to sleep. Instead, Neville wept silently.  
He had lost two close friends that he had really counted on.  
  
The return to school held many surprises. Within a short span of time, Dumbledore disappeared from school and the impopular Umbridge took his place as a headmaster. With this, all morale practically started to fall apart. The discipline was hard enough for the Weasley twins to go berserk with all their tricks, leaving school in a dramatic way that would be legend for years to come.  
Draco found it a lot harder than before to get any moment alone with Neville, even though the need seemed greater than ever. And worst of all, the Umbridge toad were all over him all the time, praising his father and family as if Draco really cared. But he was at his best in her presence, not daring to deviate the slightest from the expectations on him.  
  
And then there were the Occlumency lessons with Snape, putting further pressure on him.  
But he worked like a restless demon with it, seeing it as a first priority to protect Neville and himself from the potential disaster. And more than once, his efforts brought a nod of approval from Snape, whose mind seemed to be a impregnable fortress. But it was a very uncomfortable experience when Snape broke the defences and roamed freely in his head. It didn't take Snape long to figure out that the Death eater mark was revealed to Neville and he had a real go at Draco for it.  
But nonetheless, there was progress.  
  
Neville seemed to be a lot more on his own now, not hanging as much with Potter and Weasley anymore. It suited Draco just fine, but he didn't like the sad look on Neville's face. He really hoped for Potter's own good that he hadn't been bothering Neville in any way.   
If he had, Potter would be the next person tied to a tree with a hairburn, Draco decided.   
And he would see to it personally.  
  
It seemed to be an entirely ordinary day as Draco went down to the great hall for breakfast, with Crabbe and Goyle at his side as usual. Before they could reach their destination, Draco saw his father approach him in the corridor. Draco's immediate instinct made him mobilise all he had to meet potential trouble. But his father looked his usual haughty self, even flashing Draco a slight smile as he stopped to greet the Slytherin trio.  
"Good morning."  
Lucius sounded authorative even when he greeted people.  
"Good morning, father." Draco said, hoping that he sounded as politically correct as possible.  
Crabbe and Goyle murmured their greetings politely.  
"I'm here in business errands, unfortunately." his father continued. "But we shall see each other soon enough."   
Lucius beamed proudly at him.  
"It has come to my attention that you have very promising grades this year. The new headmaster is very pleased with you."   
"Thank you, father." Draco answered, desperately keeping all feelings distant.   
Lucius nodded approvingly and gave his shoulder a pat before moving on. Always perfect in public. But Draco knew as well as his father did that they still had a score to settle since Christmas.   
Draco continued to the great hall, but he couldn't shake off the creepy feeling that emerged when his father had touched him. It was slightly unnerving having Lucius here right now, since it was hard enough seeing Neville already.  
  
As soon as breakfast was over, Draco went up to the Slytherin dormitories to fetch his history books. Then he noticed the silvery owl on the windowsill.   
His mother's owl.   
He casually took the parchment from its foot and decided to read it quickly, before heading for the lesson. While Crabbe and Goyle carried his books to the lesson, Draco eyed through it curiously.  
  
**Draco  
  
I hope all is well with you and it is unfortunately about urgent matters that I write.   
We will have a very serious family meeting about this, once you get home.   
Your father found the note under your bed and the author of it was way too obvious.   
I truly hope that the note was an intended misleading clue, as your mentioning of Potter.  
If not, I suggest you intercept your father since he is coming to Hogwarts to put   
the matter straight. See you soon.  
Love  
  
Narcissa  
**  
Draco let the note slip out of his hand. Before it reached the floor, Draco had dashed out of the room, running faster than he ever had in his life. 


	12. Aftermath

  
  
**CHAPTER TWELVE: AFTERMATH  
**  
_I've got to get to you first   
Before they do   
It's just a question of time  
Before they lay their hands on you_   
-D.M.-  
  
Neville had never experienced the kind of freeze-out he was exposed to from his house now.  
Ocasionally, Harry tried to talk him into breaking up with Draco and when Neville refused to talk about it, Harry lapsed into furious outbursts and spent a few days ignoring him very aggressively.   
Ron was into a new habit of avoiding him, always looking unsettled and nerve-tangled as if Neville was a giant spider. The other Gryffindors had noticed that Neville was in disgrace and though nobody else knew about the big secret, there were whispers about some sort of conspiracy, since the new Slytherin inquisitors that Umbridge had appointed never bothered Neville anymore. So his other housemates seemed to avoid him temporarily, seemingly waiting out Harry's anger.   
As the frustration was already seething under the pressure of the new school order, a story about some sort of treachery seemed to be all they needed.   
The only person having longer conversations with him was Hermione and most of the time she could not, since Harry and Ron were with her all the time.   
And every attempt Draco and Neville had made to sneak away alone had failed. The school was like a military institution, breeding paranoia and aggression.   
Neville still went to the DA-meetings and some students were still talking to him from the other houses. But meeting the frosty behaviour of Ron and Harry brought him to tears nearly every night, as soon as the lights were shut in the dormitories. To share room with Harry and Ron was nearly unbearable and he had asked permission to change room from the new headmaster, but she had only waved him off, accusing him of stealing valuable time from her.  
  
It was just after breakfast when he found a note in his pocket, containing Draco's beautiful handwriting. He wanted them to meet up in the astronomy tower, skipping the history class. There was something important Draco just had to tell him. Neville was relieved to the point of tears for having a chance to see Draco again alone.   
His heart seemed to miss a beat every time Draco walked past. There was so much he wanted to say to him, about the last time they were together and about Harry and Ron. And of course, he wondered how Draco was doing in his own house.   
The History lesson could go to hell for all he cared. Nobody would want to sit beside him and what did he care if his absence was reported to Headmaster Umbridge? He was an orphan with not much of a future anyway. Good grades or no, there was still no home and no family to return to once he left Hogwarts and not lot of friends at that. What really mattered to him was Draco. As long as his lover still wanted him, there was nothing he wouldn't do for them. Absolutely nothing.  
  
Neville knocked at the door to the astronomy tower very carefully before entering.   
Draco obviously hadn't arrived yet, so Neville walked into the empty classroom and looked around at all the weird instruments and googles lying around. The classroom hadn't been in use for a few weeks, so a lot of other items had been carried in there temporarily. He was just eyeing a strange looking glass when he heard the hardly audiable sound of the door closing and the lock clicking.  
"Neville." Draco whispered behind him.   
His voice sounded a lot darker than usual. Neville felt the usual warmth spread in him and turned to face the Slytherin. His heart almost stopped.  
The looking glass crashed to the floor and splintered.   
Standing with his back to the locked door was no other than Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father and presumably one of the most dreaded Death eaters during Voldemort's reign.   
A malicious smirk spread across Lucius' thin lips as he noticed Neville's strong reaction and growing dread, but the Malfoy eyes were cold and filled to the brim with hatred.   
Neville tried not to make sudden moves that revealed his fear, but his voice gave him away as he spoke, trying to sound casual.   
"Uh, g-good morning, Sir..."  
"Longbottom." Lucius answered, poison practically dripping from his tounge.   
Lucius made a scary, friendly smile, while leaving the door to slowly approach Neville, who started to walk backwards on shaking legs.   
"You are ignoring your lesson. Why is that?" Every word had a deadly edge.   
Neville swallowed and fought to find a steady voice.  
"I- I don't like history a lot." He tried.   
"No?" Lucius heightened an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening. "You should, because if you listened to Mr Binns, he could tell you what history has to say about worthless rabble who try to interfere with the Malfoys."   
Neville's every limb turned cold. The horrible realisation that Draco wasn't coming, that he hadn't been writing the note, was painfully clear by now. He could only try to get past the dangerous threat in his way and run for the door.   
Not wasting another moment, Neville tried to sidestep Malfoy senior, only to throw himself at the opposite direction the next moment, diving for the door. His legs were swept away from underneath him and in the blink of an eye, Lucius had him in a strong grip, violently throwing him into the wall. Neville felt his back and head hitting stone, sending white heated shocks of pain through his system. Before he fell to the floor, the strong hands had gripped him again, pressing him against the wall.   
Lucius' face was so close to his now, that their noses were almost touching.   
"When I'm through with you" Lucius whispered, menacingly slow, "I'll make sure my son never touches you again."  
  
The first hundred meters Draco ran were in pure panic.  
Then he threw the door open to Mr Binns lesson, in a futile hope of finding Neville there.  
But there was no sight of the auburn-haired Gryffindor and ignoring all the faces gaping at him, he started to make it for the dungeons, at a loss about where else he could get help from. He only knew that his father had respect for Snape, maybe even certain fear, but how he would find Neville was still beyond him. The school would take years to look through.  
Snape was his only hope!  
  
A perfect order existed in the potion's classroom, as Snape put the little first years to work.  
They had kept a healthy respect for him since that day when Draco's blood laid splattered over his desk. No cheekiness like that of Potter's or any no-win revolutions like those of Neville's was even near to occur in this class.   
Smirking, he watched as a frightened little Gryffindor girl, Lora Spellman, added too much belladonna to her potion, which caused it to splash all over her. She threw herself back with a scream, hysterically trying to wipe the potion off herself without success. Snape swooped in on her and and revelled at her crouching as he informed her along with the rest of the class about the rules of removing the potion from the skin.  
"As we can see, hysteria proves fruitless." Snape lectured them, making Lora's face turn red with shame.   
The Slytherins laughed at the sight.   
"This situation was not only a lesson about potions, but also a typical example of the difference between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. Characteristically, the Gryffindor chose to act before thinking, spending several valuable seconds doing nothing useful at all. A Slytherin, however, would always consider his actions carefully, never losing control of any situation."   
Then nothing more was said, as the door to the dungeon flew up, banging into the wall.   
Draco, the dreaded prefect, came rushing in, obviously forgetting about the steeping stairs down to the classroom and made a wild stumble down several steps before regaining his balance. The desperation made him look absolutely mad.  
"DAD IS GOING TO KILL NEVILLE!" He shouted, staring at Snape.   
_No_, Snape thought, _but I am going to kill you_.  
"HE'S HERE AT HOGWARTS, I CAN'T FIND THEM! HELP!!!"   
"Calm down, Mr Malfoy!" Snape said very briskly.   
"DON'T JUST STAND THERE, DO SOMETHING!"   
Throwing Draco a venomous glare, Snape stubbornly continued in the same collected voice. "Your father was heading for the astronomy tower recently. I do not think he..."   
But Draco was already shooting up the stairs and out the door. Snape felt as if the bitterness was going to consume him.   
"Finish your potions and then leave." he ordered the shocked students. "This might take a while."  
  
In the astronomy tower, mortal fear hung heavy in the air.  
Neville trembled miserably as Lucius held a long dagger against his throat.   
"You might have wished I would start here." Lucius whispered, his voice thick with thriumph. "But you see, you have gone just a little too far to be allowed such a quick relief."  
Neville closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed, trying to collect himself.  
_ So this is it. It all ends here and I had Draco, at least I had him for a little while._   
Neville looked back at Lucius suddenly, clenching his teeth.  
"You're pathetic, letting me scare you like that!" he spat at Draco's father.  
Lucius eyes narrowed, the blade pressing harder against the soft flesh, letting the first drops of blood spill.  
"What was that?" he said, silkily smooth, smiling at Neville's whimper.  
"He loves me...and...you cannot... handle that."  
"Oh, I can handle a lot more than you imagine." Lucius eyes were glowing viciously, as he grabbed both Neville's hands in one grip and cut the clasp on his pants off with the knife. "Now, let's see how brave you are."   
Neville's face went white with dread. He tried to break free from the grip, but his head was slammed into the wall again, making him too dizzy to know what was up and down. His pants were pulled down just below his knees, making it impossible to make any kicks or other defensive moves with his legs. But he did struggle wildly, panic gripping him as he hung helplessly in Malfoy senior's grip.   
One swift cut on his throat stopped his squirming. Even though he realised that the dagger had not gone fataly deep, the warm blood running down his neck was a shocking reminder that the power over his life rested in the hands of Lucius.   
"I really wish your parents were sane enough to witness this." Lucius said matter-of-factly, suddenly turning Neville around against the wall.   
Neville started to struggle again, unable to prevent the tears from spilling.   
"Please don't!" he cried, his voice almost failing in despair. "Please, please, can't we just talk about it?"   
He only heard a silent, menacing laughter behind his back.  
"You're not worth any discussion, you useless little worm."   
Lucius knee forced his legs apart just enough and Neville fought wilder than ever to get free, screaming on the top of his lungs. Lucius answered by striking his face into the stone wall.   
The explosions of pain in Neville's head made his sight covered by red fog. The blood ran in rich streams from his nose as he fought against unconciousness.  
"Now," Lucius hissed, "I wonder if my son ever did this to you?"   
Then, instead of feeling the nudge of warm, hard flesh against his buttocks, there was only cold steel.   
Neville heard himself catch his breath to cry out again and then the rest got lost in a merciful darkness, as the blade entered him and brought unbearable pain with it.  
  
The students in the corridors leading up to the astronomy tower saw some extraordinary sights this day.   
First Draco came rushing, stripped of all his usual dignity. He burst through the door of Mr Binn's classroom again and dived for Hermione's desk, as steady as only a seeker could.  
In the blink of an eye he had grabbed Hermione's _Hogwarts- a history_ and was on his way out again, shouting loud enough to wake the dead as a crowd of eyes stared after him.  
"POTTER, SNAPE BANGED YOUR MOTHER EVERY FRIDAY IN THIS CLASSROOM!"   
A number of gasps rose and Potter was on his feet as quick as Ron, who gaped in astonishment over the impossible event.   
"MY BOOK!" Hermione bellowed, rising from her seat as well, to join the stream of upset Gryffindors following Harry and Ron as they started a mad chase after Draco.   
Any protest leaving Mr Binn's lips was useless.   
"Oh dear." The teacher muttered, shaking his head in anxiousness. "I dreaded the day that boy would settle for suicide."   
A few brave Slytherins followed, but stopped short as they saw Snape rushing past them, shouting at Draco somewhere ahead of him with a earth-shattering authority.   
"MALFOY, YOU LEAVE POTTER OUT OF THIS!"   
Frightened students jumped back at the sight of Snape, running uncannily faster than they had ever imagined. But as the rest of the Gryffindors trailed Draco furiously, Potter suddenly turned to throw himself at Snape as he came running. Snape was not ready for the impact and both fell to the floor in a nasty collision.   
Potter's impetious cries penetrated the doors to several classrooms, as he aimed his clenched fist at Snape's face.   
"LEAVE ME OUT OF WHAT!? HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU? WITH MY MOTHER, YOU FILTHY..."   
He came no longer, as Snape had the backside of his hand flying into Potter's temple, throwing him off in a second while holding his wrists steady.   
"HELP, HE'S GOING TO KILL ME!" Potter yelled.   
"Potter, you unbeliveable idiot..."   
At this, the door to a classroom opened, and McGonagall appeared, staring with a shocked frown at the two of them. Snape only threw her a poisonous glare.   
"Lucius has Neville in the astronomy tower. Draco, along with Potter, has lost it completely." Snape explained to her, releasing Harry's hands as he stopped to struggle, once the words had sunk in to him.  
"Your assistance would be appreciated, Minerva." Snape concluded, as he took off again, followed by a desperate Potter, shouting after him.   
"Professor! Professor! I didn't know! I..."  
"EXPULSION, POTTER!" Snape bellowed triumphantly.  
Behind them, McGonagall turned into a cat to run faster than she would usually manage, leaving a class of bewildered four years behind her.  
  
As the mists of unconciousness started to lift, Neville came to experience his own body gradually. First, he felt himself lying on his back in something warm and moist. Then there was a heavy pressure on his pelvis, making it hard to breathe properly. Some tingling, distant pain made itself reminded as well, but it refused to catch up with him, somehow.   
Worst of all, he felt very, very cold and weak.   
His memory cleared as he saw Lucius victorious face beaming down at him. Next, he realised that Lucius had straddled him, causing the pressure. A deceptively kind smile shone down on Neville as he tried to cough a lump of blood out of his mouth.   
"Do you know what this is?" Lucius said softly, holding his gloved hand above Neville's face.  
The glove was covered with blood. The hand gripped his jaw loosely and Lucius brought his mouth close to Neville's ear.   
"You are dying." He whispered.   
Neville understood that the wetness under him had to be his own blood. But it felt like so much.  
"I feared you might leave me too soon." Lucius continued. "So I removed some of the pain from you and stopped the bleeding a little, only for now. I hope you are truly grateful."   
Neville tried to move, but discovered that he was way too weak even to lift his hand. Then he came to think of Draco, feeling the tears slide down his cheeks at the thought of never seeing him again.  
"Oh, yes. I would cry too if I were you." Lucius taunted, obviously misinterpreting the tears. "Can you guess my next move?"   
Neville tried desperatly to form a word, coughing some blood up to clear his throat.   
"Coward."   
Lucius looked as if he couldn't believe his own ears. Then he gave Neville a stinging slap in the face.  
"Yet, it is obvious who is the winner and who is the loser in this little game." he answered, his voice now frostier than before.   
The knife flashed in the air and Neville could feel its cold blade leaning against his sex.   
"Forgive me.", Lucius whispered. "But as a symbolic gesture to the extinction of the Longbottoms..."   
Neville felt weary and broken, beyond a state where he could fear trivial matters such as pain. He was practically dead already, wondering what Lucius could possibly do to make things worse than that knowledge. He had feared the likes of Draco's father his whole life and now those who destroyed his parents would take him too. The bitterest sting though, was the naive hope he had kept alive, following him since that night in the forest. Just a small, fragile hope that he might be able to see Draco's parents one day, in another world, where everything dark lay behind them. It all felt so pathetic and distant now.   
He suddenly let out a half-quenched sob, causing Lucius to let out a chilling, silent laughter.   
"Oh, don't cry now. It will take considerable time before you die after all, since the blade is quite dull."  
"It's so pathetic." Neville whispered, his voice broken by all the screaming. "You cannot change Draco and you know it. Nothing you do to me will change that."  
"How dare you?" With a growl of fury, Lucius buried the blade deep into the tender flesh.   
Neville screamed so loud that he lost his voice. Then the dark came again, threatening to drag him down with it forever. He heard banging noices piercing the drifting down to oblivion. Like footsteps and maybe voices.   
But it didn't matter anymore. He was gone.  
  
Draco had never thought he could run this fast, outdoing the entire Gryffindor class as he almost flied up the stairs to the astronomy tower. Although the lactic acid in his legs told him that he was spent a while ago, the adrealine flooding his blood kept him going. He threw himself at the door as he reached the top of the stairs, finding it locked. A quick, simple spell made it click open and without hesitation Draco threw himself through the opening, holding his wand ready to kill if needed.   
In no time at all, he had spotted his father, rising from the floor to face him. Lucius looked as if he would say something, a thriumphant smile playing on his lips. But he never got that far.  
"EXSPELLIARMUS!" Draco roared, not bothering to look if Lucius had a wand or a dagger in his hand.   
He had caught sight of the blood on his father's robes and that was all he needed.   
Lucius flew into the wall, dropping his dagger. But in that very moment, the Gryffindors had reached the tower and threw themselves over Draco.   
Lucius regained his senses astonishingly quickly and drew his wand out. It was at the very last moment Snape, McGonagall and Harry reached the door and shouted the disarming spell in unison. Again, Lucius flew backwards with such force, that he crashed into several stargazer instruments.  
Harry seemed to have lost his mind, as he charged forward to pick up Lucius wand before he could reach it again. Snape just barely caught his robes and pulled him back very harshly.   
Lucius seemed to melt into his own shadow and vaned from the room as if being a bad dream.  
"He didn't have his wand!" Harry yelled, struggling to get free from Snape's grip.   
"He'd rip your insides out for the lack of it!" Snape hissed, pushing Harry away to examine what was left of Neville, while McGonagall sternly ordered the Gryffindors to release Draco and leave the room.   
Ron was most reluctant to obey, since he had grasped Hermione's book and struck Draco over the head with it a couple of times. Only Harry stayed behind, as if he had some sort of unspoken special permission. None of the teachers reflected over it, since they were busy saving Neville's life.   
As soon as Draco was free, he rushed to Neville's side, not caring at all about who was left in the room.  
"He's...white!" Draco breathed, suddenly realising that he sat in a sea of Neville's blood. "Where's the blood coming from?!"   
Snape had his cat reflexes on as usual. He grabbed Draco and lifted him away from the scene, locking his arms to quench his struggles, before putting him down so that Snape blocked the unnerving sight.   
"We don't have much time." Snape said, under remarkable self-control.   
"LET ME THROUGH, YOU..."  
"SILENCE! Malfoy, fetch me the black brew, in the third locker, second bottle on the upper shelf."   
He released Draco to see if he obeyed.   
"I'm not leaving him!" Draco sneered.  
"Then Mr Longbottom will die, since only professor McGonagall and I are competent to hold his death back long enough."   
Defeated, Draco left, using some reserve strength he didn't know he had left, to reach the dungeons at the speed of lightning. McGonagall looked at Harry, who was almost as white as Neville after seeing the blood and the lifeless body in the middle of it.   
"You." McGonagall said with a serious face. "Fetch madame Pomfrey at once and tell her that the wounds are...fatal."   
Harry burst out of the room in the same speed as Draco. As soon as they were alone, the two teachers looked at each other in understanding.   
"We might as well use the fireplace right now to notify madame Pomfrey." McGonagall said, starting to prepare the fire with her wand.   
Snape nodded as he stopped the bleeding with the potion he had brought with him, looking like the one he had described to Draco.   
"How much do you think they saw, Severus?" McGonagall's face was red with anger, worry and shock all at once.  
"Not enough." Snape answered. "Potter might have, but then again, I shall need to have a serious talk with him anyway." 


	13. Reality

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: REALITY**

_We cannot live together  
__We cannot live apart  
__That's the situation  
__I've known it from the start  
__-Genesis-_

The hospital wing lay in exhausted silence as Madame Pomfrey finally went to sleep and left the guarding of Neville to a weary Snape. And Snape was truly weary of everything.  
First, Neville had to be urgently nursed by madame Pomfrey and meanwhile, McGonagall and Snape had been through hell trying to keep Potter and Draco out of the hospital room. They had battled everything from invisibility cloaks to blackmail attempts way below the belt before they were left in peace.  
After that, McGonagall had been to see the principle, the horrible, repulsive Umbridge, who had waved McGonagall's requests for personal guards for Neville off, defending Malfoy senior by claiming that a double tried to frame the respectable head of the Malfoy empire. Then Snape had been to see Umbridge, convincing her about the need for guards by blaming Potter and the Gryffindors as the biggest threat.Umbridge had agreed of course, allowing Snape and McGonagall to take shifts by Neville's side.  
Snape boiled with anger when he thought about the substitutes sent in to take over his lessons. The students might go soft and Snape would have to start all over again to attain the firm discipline in his classroom.  
He tried to savour the silence. In a moment, he would have young Malfoy down with him and he looked forward to it as much as he would if it was Potter. Actually, the Potter situation would be much more stimulating, since the arrogant little Gryffindor now faced the threat of expulsion after trying to hit Snape. However, at the discretion of the Order of the Phoenix, Potter had to be kept within sight and could under no circumstances leave school. But Potter knew nothing about that, of course.  
Malfoy on the other hand, had looked way too edgy all day and had skipped lessons to sneak around outside the hospital wing, in case he would find a chance to get in. His anger had spilled over the other Slytherins as they tried to hang around him as usual and Crabbe and Goyle had been sent off, totally at a loss about what had happen.  
Snape had told Malfoy to attend after the evening meal, under the pretence of serving detention with Snape. Nobody who had seen Malfoy's behaviour in the school halls yesterday would question that.  
Young Malfoy had finally succeeded in forcing Snape way too deep into his sticky business. It had been too late when he had found them in the library that autumn evening, but little could he guess how far into their soapy drama he would need to slide. Now there was also a hospital scene in it and Snape of all people had to play a part!  
But his patience with Lucius had hardly increased by this assault on one of his students. Lucius had trespassed on Snape's domains and would pay dearly for it. All torturing of the students were reserved as a teacher's priviligue and the sort of act Lucius had commited reminded Snape only too much of a dark and uncomfortable past.  
It was time to put some amount of control over the situation.

Draco had been waiting outside the hospital wing for over an hour. He had skipped dinner since he couldn't get any food down anyway and now he sat half secluded by a column and waited for the clock to show a tolerable time for him to enter the room. It felt like waiting for a death sentence.  
His thoughts kept spinning in circles, not offering any satisfying solutions to the mountains of misery that lay ahead.He would be grateful if Neville ever spoke another word to him again and there would be hell to pay at home, not to mention that he had exposed weakness to Potter in the astronomy tower. Snape never looked pleased to see him anymore either.  
Thinking about Neville released such cravings of vengeance and hatred directed to his father that he feared he might snap from the adrenaline.  
But the worst part was the rare feeling of heavy guilt, like the entire world suddenly came crashing down on him.  
"It was your fault."  
A dark shadow had fallen over Draco and amazingly enough, Potter stood there, deadly serious in his dark robes with an accusing glare, as if impersonating Draco's newly discovered conscience. For a moment, Draco was too stunned to answer. Then the old familiar feeling of frost towards Potter came creeping.  
"I can't remember seeing his Gryffindor friends around for the rescue."  
While Draco's voice grew colder, Harry's sounded all the more heated.  
"Whatever this game was you played with him, it ends here. None of us will ever leave him alone with you anymore!"  
Draco got to his feet, enflamed on Neville's account all of a sudden.  
"And as usual, you forgot to ask him?"  
"What's that suppose to mean?"  
"You would know, Potter" Draco said with dripping venom, "if you could picture Neville with a will of his own just once. Not everybody is eager to run in the Potter leach!"  
"And we can all see how well he did in _your_ leach!" Potter shot back.  
The accusation struck home, but Draco did everything to keep his mask on, even trying to surpress the growing anger.  
"How very unworthy of you Potter, allowing your bitterness to spill out over Neville."  
Potter looked very insulted and ready to strike back, but the light blush on his cheeks that Draco searched for was there.  
"You're just full of crap, Malfoy!"  
"Am I?" Draco gave him a chilly smile. "I think, that the famous Harry Potter, the adored Boy-who-lived with an ego bigger than Hagrid's stupor, couldn't handle that Neville beat him in a prestigious game."  
Harry clenched his teeth in fury, but had no words yet to meet the attack.  
"It's no secret" Draco continued, "that your expertise with girls is below all criticism, if we are to judge by Chang's disappointed face and her constant avoiding of you. Clearly, fame isn't everything."  
Harry's breathing became slightly faster, as if he stood ready to assault Draco on the spot. Draco could see he wasn't far from the explosion.  
"And what sorts of relationships do _you_ have, Malfoy? You set them up and gather the left-overs your dad leave?"  
Draco had a dark impulse of strangling Potter very slowly, but he wasn't going to start a scene out there and miss his chance to see Neville. Instead, he struck with the sharpest weapons he had.  
"You look quite sexy when you're angry, Potter."  
It was a real feast for the eyes to see Potter turn red from the embarrasment, his mouth wide open in shock.  
"Wh-what...?"  
"Oh, don't stop raging. It's the way I want you." Draco smiled maliciously at him, watching how Potter shakily withdrew as Draco took one step forward.  
Then Snape opened the door and ruined the fun.  
"I can't remember I sent after you for detention as well?" Snape said, eyening Potter coldly.  
Draco was surprised to see how the-boy-who-lived made a frightened jump at the sight of Snape, like being caught in the middle of a crime.  
Without another word Potter left, but Draco felt that the small victory hardly made up for anything at all.

As he entered the hospital wing, a knot in his stomach started to ache and by the time they reached Neville's bed, he was in a horrible condition.  
It was nothing compared to Neville, though.  
The abused Gryffindor had a deadly pale on his cheeks, his face was covered with bruises and the nose carried dark red wounds, even if madame Pomfrey had tamed the swelling. One white hand lay on the cover, exposing the wrapped, broken wrist. It was obvious from the breathing that he was in deep sleep.  
Draco forgot to breathe. He forgot to sit down and Snape had to place another chair beside the bed and give him a slight push in its direction to break the paralyzation.  
"He has recieved a heavy sleeping draught and a powerful pain remover." Snape said, in a futile attempt to calm Draco into breathing normally.  
"Where did the blood come from?" Draco whispered.  
Snape looked slightly impatient with him.  
"What matters is that he will live and that your plans are better laid this time."  
"What are you talking about?" Draco sank down to the chair, unable to release his eyes from Neville.  
"_Professor._"  
"Yes, right. Professor." Draco said absentmindedly.  
"If I were to put the sorting hat on your head now, it would bellow 'Gryffindor' loud enough to revive the rotting basilisk in the pipes!"  
Draco stared at his teacher with his jaw dropped at the insult.  
"You are acting like Potter even more than Potter himself." Snape went on, staring accusingly at his student.  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco gasped, looking terribly wronged.  
"I'm saying" Snape continued, with plain authority, "that when your father sends for you, you will tell him how sorry you are about your disobedience and make it up by obtaining a girlfriend. I'm sure Miss Parkinson would be happy to oblige."  
Draco answered with a cold in his voice that would be able to compete with Snape's.  
"He's not my father. And concerning Pansy, over my dead body!"  
"Could well be." Snape scolded. "But more likely, over Longbottom's dead body."  
Draco clenched his teeth together in stubborn silence.  
"I didn't say you have to mean it. Only that you will do it." Snape's patience was fading, but Draco couldn't care enough even to look at his potion's master. When Draco shook his head, Snape addressed him more sharply.  
"You can't afford this childishness, judging by the fix you've put yourself into. Neither I nor McGonagall will be able to guard Longbottom forever."  
"What did he do to him?" Draco asked, clearly looking for fuel to his vengeance plans.  
Snape sighed.  
"First of all, Malfoy, we should ask ourselves how your father found out."  
This silenced Draco effectively. Lead seemed to fill his limbs.  
"It was my fault." Draco whispered, his voice staggering in a very unusual way. Snape raised an eyebrow.  
"Indeed. And how is that?"  
"He found the letter Neville sent me at Christmas. I forgot to burn it." Draco's voice was strangely similar to a whimper.  
"You let him send you letters!" Snape hissed, more accusingly than Draco could handle.  
Snape suddenly heard a loud sob and looked at the bed. But Neville was in deep sleep. Then he realised with a shock that it came from Malfoy.  
_Oh no, why did it had to happen on my watch, don't do this to me, I'm not paid good enough for this.  
_"Malfoy, put yourself together." Snape sounded more commanding than pleading, hoping that Draco would show but a scrap of his former discipline to relieve Snape of this awkward situation.  
But Draco shot up from his chair to face Snape and dried the tears away immediatly. Snape could read trouble all over him.  
"It would suit you, wouldn't it?" Draco snapped. "To have everything back to normal, so the Malfoy dinners went all smooth again?"  
"Lower your voice, Potter...I mean Malfoy." Snape said cynically. "You're in a hospital."  
"I bet it's very inconvenient that you had to stop Lucius from killing him! It would be better for you if Neville had died, hadn't it?"  
_Probably,_ Snape thought, but he continued to listen, putting on a face of frank boredom.  
"I'm sorry to disrupt your plans, professor, but if you think I'd trade Neville for the friendship between you and my f... Lucius, then you are naive indeed! And you'd best get used to not seeing Lucius, because I'm telling you, unless he can survive what he put Neville through, he's done for!"  
"Now you listen, you spoiled little failed Slytherin!" Snape's eyes were flaming. "I'm not your servant and neither is any staff member on this school. Not only do I outrank you as your teacher, but concerning the mark on your left arm, be grateful that I haven't thrown half a dussin of _Crucio's_ on you already!"  
Draco flinched as Snape rose from his chair to intimidate him further. The survival instincts finally flooded through Draco, making him realise that he spoke to the Dark Lord's favorite Death eater. He quickly wondered what he could do to have Snape calm again. Was he expected to go down on his knees? Hesitantly he looked to the floor.  
"Well?" Snape demanded.  
As Draco started to put one knee to the floor, Snape pulled him up harshly and grabbed his shoulders.  
"An apology will do, you imbecile!" he hissed.  
"I'm sorry, professor!" Draco shot out, as quickly as he could.  
Snape let him go without ceremony and placed himself on the chair again with a displeased sneer.  
Draco didn't dare to breathe a word, worried that Snape would take his anger out on Neville when he wasn't around.  
"Now", Snape said in a voice as calm as if nothing had happened, "I expect a civilized conversation. You will do as I have told you to, because your father has sent for you. You are to return home as soon as the circumstances will allow."  
Draco went absolutely cold.  
"I have told him that the school insisted on executing your detentions first. That leaves you another twentyfour hours."  
"But...Neville..." Draco's voice trailed off at the murderous glare from Snape.  
"Longbottom is done for, unless you are Slytherin enough to tell your father what he wants to hear."  
A weak cough was heard from the bed and Draco threw himself at the bedside opposite from Snape, grasping the white hand on the cover. Neville's eyelids quivered a little as Snape wearily turned his back on them to snatch a bottle from the shelf.  
"What's that?" Draco said, glaring at the bottle with great suspicion.  
"That is to ease my building headache." Snape answered sarcastically.  
"What?"  
"It's Longbottom's sleeping draught, you fool!" Snape hissed.  
"Draco?"  
Neville's unsteady, rasping whisper nearly made Draco jump to the roof with relief. He fixed his eyes on the half-closed simmering brown ones that seemed unable to focus, while squeezing Neville's hand as light as he could in his desperation.  
"Neville!" he eagerly whispered back. "I'm here, I'm not leaving, I'll kill him, I swear..."  
Feeling Snape's burning gaze upon him, Draco quickly changed the subject.  
"Can you hear me?"  
For a moment, Draco thought he saw fear flicker through Neville's face. Then a tear came rolling down the blackened, soft cheek.  
"I...thought I'd never...see you...again."  
"Oh Neville, it was all my fault, Lucius found the letter you sent me for Christmas and mom managed to send me a letter arriving just a little too late and I'm so sorry, I ran as fast as I could, it wasn't fast enough I know, just, please, say whatever I can do to make you forgive me and I'll do it, and I'll make sure noone ever touches you again..."  
Snape let out a loud, contemptous sigh.  
Draco felt Neville's fingertips pressuring his hand slightly.  
"It wasn't ...your...fault." Then he coughed again.  
Draco wanted to stroke his cheek but thought better of it as the bruises practically covered all of it.  
"I look terrible." Neville whispered apologetically.  
"Don't be stupid!" Draco snapped, kissing Neville's forehead very carefully.  
Neville closed his eyes and made a small, pleased sound.  
"Are you in pain?" Draco asked, the anger suddenly rushing through his veins like leaping fire. "You must tell me what he did, Neville, because I'll do exactly the same to him, every little..."  
"That's enough!" Snape interrupted and Draco could see how Neville's features changed into despair.  
"Longbottom needs his rest and your detention is over." Snape broke their handcontact, realising that he would have to wait forever if they were to be left to their own devices.  
Draco rose, but refused to move until Snape grabbed his arm and gave him a hard push towards the door.  
"I have to stay with him!" Draco protested.  
"Not another word on the subject!" Snape shot back. "You prepare your speech in front of your parents instead and do contemplate on what I said."  
"What if I just don't leave?" Draco's voice was low and threatening.  
Snape rolled his eyes, before fixing them venomously on Draco.  
"Then your parents can collect the remains of you both in Hagrid's dog bowl tomorrow!"  
As soon as Draco had left the room, Snape turned to Neville, who seemed to be drifting in and out of the waking world, fighting to keep his eyes open as he heard Snape's voice.  
"We have a slight problem here, as you have noticed." Snape said, using his lecturing voice. "Tomorrow, Draco will be sent home and professor McGonagall and I will be responsible for your safety."  
Neville whispered something, looking very anxious.  
"What was that?" Snape asked and leant down to hear him better.  
"You can't...send Draco ...home."  
"Oh, yes I can and I have no choice in the matter. However, his continued wellfare depends on you."  
"I...don't...understand."  
"If you tell Draco about your wounds, he will try to attack his father and recieve a punishment that renders him beyond recognition."  
Neville looked miserable, tears sliding down his cheeks in shame over the mentioning of the wounds. But Snape was set on seeing the conversation through.  
"One more thing. You cannot be together here or anywhere else. As soon as Mr Malfoy returns, he will choose Miss Parkinson as a more fitting partner to display."  
"No...!" Neville seemed devastated, turning a pleading pair of eyes to Snape.  
"You put yourself in this situation, so don't even dare to lay the blame on me! Stay away from Mr Malfoy, or it will mean disaster for you both!"  
Neville bit his lip, the tears running in great strides as he sobbed heartbrokenly.  
"It's not fair." He whimpered.  
Snape's limit was reached. It filled him with burning anger to be confronted with the full weight of his past thanks to this weak, pathetic Gryffindor, having the nerve to demand justice. Snape leant down and whispered into Neville's ear, sterner than he intended to.  
"I'll tell you what else isn't fair. Some of us, like Mr Malfoy, carry the mark. Yes, I know you've seen it. Now, take wisdom from your past and heed my words. You will be grateful for this when Mr Malfoy has been ordered to commit his first murder. Because he will have to do it, you see, and after that...there is no turning back. For any of you."

When Draco awoke the next morning, he had slept no longer than an hour at most. He couldn't handle the thought of leaving Hogwarts while Neville lay in his present state. He decided to make an early breakfast and hurried to the hospital wing as fast as he could. Crabbe and Goyle wasn't halfway trough their meal as he left.  
As he entered the hospital room very carefully, he saw that McGonagall sat by Neville's bed, reading a big book aloud. Neville seemed awake, his head pushed up alittle by several fluffy cushions.  
McGonagall looked up at Draco as he walked nearer, bracing himself for the Gryffindor head's reaction. But McGonagall only gave him a friendly smile of the sort she had never done before. Draco looked back at her, full of suspicion.  
"Mr Malfoy. How nice to see you! Do sit down."  
"Thank you, professor." He said, meeting Neville's gaze. It was hard for once to guess Neville's thoughts. Draco had not expected him to look so hurt.  
"I was just telling Mr Longbottom about your rescue operation the other day." McGonagall told him. "Seemed only fair, since most of the school took quite an impression of your visit at Mr Binns."  
She eyed Draco sternly behind her reading glasses.  
"You couldn't have arrived more properly." she continued. "I need to go through some tests, so I'll be over there if you need me." She nodded towards a huge desk in the other end of the room and made her way to it, before Draco could answer.  
As soon as she left, Draco bent down and kissed Neville's lips.  
The hurting didn't seem to fade from Neville's eyes, however.  
"How are you today?" Draco asked, noting how a little colour had returned to Neville's skin.  
"Better, I guess. The pain is removed and Pomfrey says she'll be able to restore me."  
Draco sat down on the bed, stroking Neville's curls.  
"That's my boy." he said, smiling.  
"Draco?" Neville's lower lip was quivering.  
"What?"  
"Are you going to hang out with Pansy now?"  
Draco frowned.  
"Did Snape tell you that?"  
"Just answer the question." Neville pleaded.  
"If I do, you know it's only for show, right?"  
Neville's eyes suddenly shot daggers.  
"Fine. Then I'll just hang out with Potter!"  
Draco went absolutely livid, but held it in check behind a mask of ice.  
"You wouldn't dare!"  
"Oh, it's only for show." Neville said, his voice carrying an uncommon edge.  
Draco raised an eyebrow, taken off guard by Neville's sudden blackmailing instincts.  
"If Potter touches you, he can switch beds with you at once!"  
"Don't say that!" Neville couldn't hold the tears back any longer.  
Draco lay down beside Neville and embraced him gently, not sure about where the worst wounds were. Neville cried into his shoulder a little while, before speaking again.  
"I almost died for you." he sobbed. "And now you'll just run to Pansy instead?"  
"I don't want her, you know that!" Draco said, his voice not hiding any irritation. He didn't like the guilt Neville caused in him. "But I don't want you to die either and I'm telling you, until I know a way to get rid of Lucius, I'll do what I can to direct his anger away from you."  
"Draco? If they...you know who...asked you to commit a murder, would you do it?"  
"Only if it was on Lucius." Draco answered immediatly, his voice cold with anger at the mentioning of it.  
"What if you don't have a choice?"  
"Why don't we just drop the subject?" Draco sighed, not wanting to venture into it further.  
Neville moved his head up to kiss Draco's lips.  
"You're the only one I have." Neville whispered. "If I have to lose you to those..."  
"You won't. But I'm going home today and unless I can convince my parents about the opposite, he'll go for you again and I will not allow that to happen."  
"It's so unfair." Neville whispered. "And you shouldn't have to go home!"  
"It's that Umbridge bitch." Draco whispered. "As long as she keeps kissing Lucius' ass, I'm at her mercy."  
"I wish Dumbledore was here."  
"I wish everybody were gone, except for us."  
"_Hem, hem."_

Draco flew out of the bed at the familiar sound, his face turning white as he saw headmaster Umbridge at the door. To his relief, she was talking to McGonagall, who seemed to block her sight intentionally, by standing in a proper angle towards Neville. Draco cast one glance back at Neville and for a second, he saw the wounded Gryffindor look very sad. Draco felt like panicking, but forced his face straight and walked up to McGonagall's side very quickly.  
"Ah." McGonagall said. "There you are. I hope all the medicine bottles are properly sorted out?"  
"Of course, professor." Draco answered in his polite teacher's pet-voice.  
Umbridge smiled in a very sinister way.  
"I didn't know that the heads of the houses switched students between each other?" she asked, giving McGonagall an accusing eye.  
But McGonagall answered with a perfect mask of hurt pride.  
"Usually they don't, headmistress. But considering Mr Malfoy's dreadful behaviour the other day..."  
"Now, I'm sure professor Snape could handle that, couldn't he?" Umbridge said in her sweet girlish voice, laying her fat, porky hand at Draco's back to direct him out of the hospital room.  
Draco followed her obediently, not daring to cast even one look behind him. He just upheld his ingratiating smile while they walked towards her office.  
"Your father is here, Malfoy dear." she said, sounding a lot more fawning. She had obviously no idea what had brought the visit on.  
Draco's feet turned cold at the information, but he struggled to make his eyes shine in an expectant way, as if he was actually going to enjoy the meeting.  
"Is my mother here too, headmistress?" he tried, making his voice mildly curious and eager.  
"No dear, but your father will take you home, since there is some very important and private family errands to be dealt with. It will be nice leaving school for a while in all this stress about the final exams, won't it?"  
She gave him that toady smile again and Draco smiled back, gritting his teeth.  
_Oh, clever. Picking me up at school to leave mom out of it. I wonder if she even knows. And that headmistress with a face like Trevor...  
_As they entered Umbridge's office, Draco had already made at least twenty different pictures in his head of torture instruments that might be used against him. The quick glances exchanged between Draco and his father promised a lot worse methods than anything Draco could dream up.  
But outwards, both of them held their positions in a perfect play of mutual devotion.  
"My dear son." Lucius said, smiling while he held out his arms to embrace Draco, who walked into them with a great amount of self-control. As Lucius closed the hug with his hands on Draco's back, Draco felt as if the jaws of a monster had locked him.  
_Oh no, he has never embraced me before, not since I was four, this is bad...  
_Lucius let go of him casually and put a hand on Draco's shoulder as he turned to Umbridge with an aristocratic air, rewarding her with a smile.  
"I'm so pleased you found him for me. Again, I do apologize for the sudden urgency..."  
"Oh, think nothing of it!" Umbridge fussed, letting out a horrible little laughter. "The families of the students are of great concern to us and we want them to feel safe and comfortable here!"  
_I wonder how safe you'll feel, when I let the black squid in the lake nibble on you, feeding you to it bit by bit, real slow...  
_Lucius smiled at Umbridge, beaming at her with his charismatic look. Draco really hoped he didn't see what he thought he saw. Umbridge couldn't glare at his father like that! It was too horrid!  
"We are most grateful for your efforts." Lucius said. "You must join us for dinner some evening. But for now, Draco and I must be moving along."  
He turned to Draco with one eyebrow raised, revealing nothing but the loving father, if it wasn't for those cold, calculating eyes.  
"Unfortunately, your mother had to attend a very important meeting. She will be back tonight, however, which leaves us nearly twelve splendid hours to spend together. Won't that be something?"  
Lucius winked at him, patting his back encouragingly.


	14. Blood

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: BLOOD**

_There's a chapter on fathers, a chapter on sons  
__There are pages of conflicts that nobody won  
__And the battles you lost and your bitter defeat  
__There's a page where we failed to meet  
__-Sting-_

If Draco thought it had been hard to uphold an act at the Christmas table, it was nothing compared to now. As he walked with his father through the front door of the Malfoy castle, with Lucius' hand firmly placed on his shoulder, there were almost an overload of thoughts racing through his head. He tried to focus on what Snape had said, but the picture of Neville beaten nearly to death kept coming up and then the mindless rage entered and after that, the huge effort to keep it restrained.  
But not the least, there was real, deep-rooted fear of what to come.  
_He tried to kill Neville. Is it my turn now?  
_As the servants took their outer robes, Draco had several instincts to hit his father as hard as he could and run for it. But it would be no good. Lucius knew him too well and the mere thought of Neville being punished again for the sake of how Draco had dealt with this, helped his body to keep in check.  
"Come with me." Lucius said, still smiling in front of the house elfs, as if it mattered at all.  
Then he just grabbed the garment of Draco's shirt and started to drag him along to the stairs leading down to the underground dungeons. Draco's heart made a frightened leap, as the basement was something normally out of boundaries for him. His imagination about the place had never been kind and feeling himself stumble on the stone steps and hearing the heavy oak door being locked behind him, some frantic survival instincts surfaced.  
He reached for his wand in panic, but in the blink of an eye, Lucius had drawn it out and thrown it on the stairs behind them.  
"A very bad move indeed." His father hissed. "I do not think you need to give me any more reasons for your penalty, do you?"  
Lucius had him in a stronger grip now, pulling him along a dark stone corridor with a low roof, lit up only by a few scattered torches. Draco clenched his teeth together all he could not to give his father the treat of seeing his fear. But his body wouldn't quite follow and Lucius had to throw him into the cold stone room selected, before locking the door behind them with a slight wave of his wand.  
Draco threw a desperate glance around the room as Lucius slowly turned to face him, his lips twisted into a sinister wolf grin of pure rage.  
At least the room was empty, save for some hooks and a solitary torch attached to the wall.  
_No torture instruments but he's going to beat me up real bad for sure...  
_"Well, now." Lucius drawled, fixing his triumphant pale eyes on Draco. "Where to begin? Ah, yes, Christmas."  
Draco felt by pure instinct how his entire system screamed as one voice that this was the moment to apologize, to throw himself on his knees and beg for a swift punishment, that he would repent, improve, if only he had his father's forgiveness. It was the most logical thing to do, but his feet remained rooted on the spot and his tounge seemed tied, refusing to shape even one word.  
He could see Neville on the floor again up in the astronomy tower, with all the blood and his father, smiling as he was about to speak, the knife still in his hand.  
Draco suddenly straightened himself up, meeting his father's gaze with equal cold. No. To tell Lucius he was sorry would be like spitting Neville in the face.  
"Do you possibly have anything to say to your defence?" Lucius said, more rethorically than actually asking.  
He took a step towards Draco, putting his wand right under Draco's chin to force his head up a little.  
Lucius was reeking of death and disaster, promising unspeakable horrors by his mere voice. Draco shuddered, but kept his feet firmly fixed to the ground.  
The anger came calling again, bringing uncontrollable hate with it. This man before him had tried to kill his Neville and it was his father. The disappointment was too vast, calling too loud for vengeance for the voice of reason to be heard.  
_For you, Neville.  
_"One thing." Draco said, his voice a lot more cool and collected than he felt. "I've dumped him and I'm all into Pansy instead, but Trevor the toad has more balls than you."  
The last thing he saw was Lucius face horribly twisted into pure hatred, then the wand was waved and a blinding light erupted from it.  
"_CRUCIO!"  
_Draco heard himself scream uncontrollably, as every nerve in his body seemed to be pierced by burning firepokes. He hit the stone floor without realising it, twisting and turning in pain. His red-clouded eyes caught a glimpse of a satisfied smile on his father's lips, before the tears blinded him.

Trevor the toad was living a life of luxury in Neville's lap, while trying to communicate with one of the chocolate frogs as usual. And there were lots of frogs to mingle with. Earlier that day, Harry, Hermione and Ron had been to see him, along with the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team and his class as well. The visit was an obvious apology for the behaviour towards him earlier that month. It made Neville feel a lot better and safer, but the crucial source for his wellbeing was missing.  
The Gryffindors (and some students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff) had left mountains of candy and get-well presents on the tables and the bed, causing madame Pomfrey to trip over the runaway chocolate frogs, swearing at them in a surprisingly harsh language.  
At the moment, he was alone with Trevor, talking to the toad very softly while stroking its back with waterdrops to keep it comfortable.  
"Maybe Draco will come in here later and you can say hello to him." Neville whispered. "You've never really been properly introduced and... and..."  
Neville sighed. It was all he could think of, Draco and then Draco again. He couldn't bear the thought of Draco returning home and he could bear even less that Draco would be seen with Pansy, the insufferable black-haired Slytherin witch. But least of all he wanted to touch the subjects Snape had brought up.  
The door opened and Hermione came in, striding up to his bed with light, bouncing steps as always. McGonagall rose from her chair and walked over to the desk across the room, as she did when Neville recieved company.  
"How are you, Neville?" she asked, putting an apple on top of the candy heap.  
"Okay, I guess. But it's hard sleeping at night. Pomfrey says I'll be out in a week or so, but I have to take medicines for a long time."  
Hermione nodded.  
"Do you want to talk to me about something?" She said, very diplomatically.  
Neville glared at her, suddenly on his guard.  
"I'm really worried, that's all." Hermione said in a parental way, looking very serious. "You can't blame me, after...you know...can you?"  
"He saved my life, Hermione. And if it wasn't for him, I'd be dead, since nobody was around to care where I went." Neville suddenly realised that he had adopted a certain mean streak from Draco, hearing the strange poison his voice carried. But it felt so good to get it out.  
"Malfoy has gone home. His father was here to pick him up, did you know that?" Hermione's voice was very gentle.  
Neville went pale. Then the tears welled up in his eyes, giving shape to his anguish.  
"But...no, how could Umbridge let him in, after what he did? Hasn't anybody reported him to the ministry?"  
Hermione didn't answer. Instead she put her arms around Neville, who started to cry uncontrollably against her shoulder. He came out of it soon enough, meeting Hermione's gaze with a desperate glint in his eyes.  
"We have to save him!" he blurted out. "There's no telling what Lucius could do!"  
"Oh, please calm down, Neville!" Hermione urged. "I'm sure he'll return shortly. He'll have to take his exams with the rest of us."  
But Neville shook his head.  
"No, I'm not losing him, not now!" he said. "I have to get well, oh no..."  
Hermione stroked his cheek and gave him a concerned look.  
"Look. If you're really worried, I'll check up on him." she promised.  
Neville stared at her full of surprise.  
"How are you going to do that?"  
"I'll find a way." She mused. "I already have a plan. Rest and don't worry. I'll be back as soon as I can with the news."  
"Why are you doing this?" Neville asked, not daring to believe she was serious.  
"Because you're my friend, Neville, even if Malfoy isn't. And I can see what he means to you. And after all..." She kissed his cheek. "...he did save your life."

Draco fought to catch his breath as the searing pain pulsed through him. The _crucios_ had stopped for now. He had lost count on how many times the word had been uttered, twice, maybe three or four times? All he knew was that he lay shaking on the stone floor, covered in coldsweat, his head spinning as it failed to deal with the shocking new levels of experience.  
If he had known that there were tortures like this, he would have rewritten every word and every action directed at his father the minutes before disaster. His sobs were impossible to restrain and Draco wasn't sure it was all about the physical uncomfort.  
Lucius leant over him all of a sudden, drawing a silver watch out from his robes, attached in a magnificent chain. He let it swing like a pendulum close to Draco's eyes, but Draco couldn't focus enough to look at it.  
"Pathetic." he heard Lucius say. "Not until now can you grasp the full consequences of your behaviour."  
Draco was in complete despair over a lot more than his punishment. This was his father that he had admired, the same person who had read him stories when he was a child, who had spoken about him proudly to everyone who would bear to listen.  
"As you may or may not see, we have nine more hours to correct your failure." Lucius continued, his voice uncannily calm.  
Draco felt his heart sink to his stomach. Impossible. It had taken two hours just to return home and an eternity had passed already! He couldn't bear anymore of it, for certain. His father had to understand that!  
Lucius straightened up again, his wand put into an offensive position.  
"NO!" Draco shouted, trying to hold his hand up in a shielding gesture. "I'm sorry father, I am! It won't happen again, EVER!"  
"It certainly will not." Lucius said, very slowly. "You will come to understand that, if not after the good whipping I intend to give you, so perhaps when the taste of this spell is firmly rooted into your system."  
Whipping! His father had to be mad. The pain was burning Draco up from within, his skin sore as if his nerves lay exposed on top of it.  
"Understand." Lucius continued. "If I don't do this now, your fellow Death eaters will, and that will be a lot more painful, trust me. It is for your own good."  
"Please! Wait!" Draco pleaded, trying to find any sort of understanding or reason at all. "I'll do whatever you say, I think my arm's broken...and...think about mother!"  
"Your arm _is_ broken." Lucius answered coldly. "And concerning your mother, you will return to school immediatly after your repentance. _If _I can sense any truth in your regret. And if you breathe even one word to her about this, you will see this place again sooner than you wish to. _CRUCIO!"_

Snape had just finished a lesson with the second-years when the most ambitious student at Hogwarts made her way through the door as the twelve years old snottlings hurried out. He collected the parchment essays on the student's tables while she walked up and stopped at a respectful distance.  
"The sixth year student litterature on potions will be released in July." He said without even looking up at her.  
He could admit he was a little impressed by her, even though it couldn't get in the way for the house rivalry. She was the only student he'd ever seen who seemed to look forward to his lessons with genuine interest, offering challenging discussions about the potion's subject, despite Snape's constant tries to boot her down.  
"Actually, professor, I came to you for another reason. It concerns one of your students, Mr Malfoy."  
Snape stopped in his tracks and met her gaze, full of suspicion.  
"Make it quick then." He snapped, not interested to listen to any trouble Malfoy may have caused his enemies.  
Hermione cleared her throat, an obvious warning that she prepared a speech.  
"It has come to my attention that Lucius Malfoy visited the school this morning, to bring Mr Malfoy home."  
Snape suddenly gave her the most cynical glare he could display.  
"You are not possibly running Longbottom's errands, are you?"  
Hermione made a slight pause and heightened an eyebrow, much in the same fashion that Snape often did.  
"That is correct, yes." She admitted. "But since Malfoy belongs to your house..."  
Snape made a world-weary sigh, holding one hand up for her to stop. He was overwhelmingly tired of his life all of a sudden. But even more, he was way beyond tired of Malfoy's private intrigues. He couldn't believe Hermione had allowed herself to be pulled into the fatal swamp of this idiot fix.  
"If you are so clever as you pretend to be" he said, making his voice stinging, "then give me even one reason to why I should involve myself."  
Hermione tilted her head slightly and looked carefully at him.  
"Because Dumbledore would have wished you to?" she suggested.  
Snape almost gave a start at her steady aim. This nosy little Gryffindor with an oversized brain would clearly never stop surprising him.  
"You know nothing about that!" he snapped, angered by her cheekiness. He had certainly suffered enough in this drama.  
"Of course not, professor." She said hurriedly, using a very irritating diplomatic tone. "But considering the side we are both on and the future advantages for the cause, the heir of the Malfoy empire could hardly stand as an unimportant ally."  
Snape only stared at her. The sorting hat must have malfunctioned, not to put her in Ravenclaw. However, he had long suspected that Dumbledore directed the hat to his will anyway.  
"So why do you presume that I will interfere with the Malfoys' private matters?"  
His voice was filled with chilly streams, hoping to scare her away. But Hermione was still there, brooding for a second as if he had shot her a tricky question from homework.  
"Because, I think that Draco really trusts you." She said finally. "And if you help him now, he will know that you...we care about him and then the last steps to our side will be a lot easier, since I believe Lucius Malfoy has quite some respect for you. If smoothly done, he will never know you are behind it. I, for instance, could run your errands in the matter if you only instruct me. And I'm sure that Neville..."  
"Enough of it!" Snape glared at her bitterly, not wishing to stir up any well-founded emnity with Potter's allies. "How is it that you even have the nerve to come to me in confidence about this?"  
Hermione shrugged, giving him a glance of unexpected pity and sympathy.  
"Dumbledore trusts you and that's enough for me." She said. "And besides, you are the most gifted teacher at Hogwarts."

When Draco came to his senses again, he wished he could have stayed in the void of unconciousness a lot longer. He was resting his head on somebody's arm and every inch of him was hurting so much that he feared for an instant that his body had been burned to cinders.  
But as he opened his eyes, he caught sight of his own hand, still white as it rested powerlessly against his stomach. Then he dimly saw his father's face in the corner of his eye, realising that he were held in his lap, unable to move.  
Cool, soothing fingers brushed his forehead, but even though the touch was very light, Draco had to bite his tounge not to scream out loud of the pain it caused.  
"You understand why I need to do this, don't you?" Lucius asked, his voice calm and lecturing.  
"It burns." Draco whispered, surprised to find his voice at all.  
"I know, believe me." Lucius answered, not sounding the least empathic about it. "But you should have thought about this before you defied me. You are clever enough, Draco, to know what I do to people who dare to cross me. How could you bring yourself to do this to me?"  
Draco closed his eyes again, not believing what he heard. There was no sensible answer to this at all and it was thoroughly hard to concentrate on talking when he was in such an urgent need of relieve from the pain.  
"Answer me, Draco."  
"I am very sorry." Draco whispered, struggling to get the words out right. "Now that I know I will never do it again."  
"That will not do, Draco."  
_Oh, shit.  
_"I'll do exactly as you say from now on." he tried, swallowing not to make any sound of discomfort.  
"That I take for granted." Lucius scolded him. "No really. I'd say you need to practise your lesson a little harder."  
Draco couldn't stop himself from screaming with pain as his hands were brought together and tied up. His right arm was hurting as if lightning was streaming through it. He thought he saw a broken bone pipe sticking out, but averted his eyes in shock and disbelief.  
Suddenly he dangled from a hook in the wall, tied to it by the rope around his wrists. His feet barely touched the floor and the pain was so engulfing it was almost ridiculous. Seeing his father pulling the belt out from Draco's pants was still even more unbelievable.  
_Please let him be bluffing. I am not weak, it's only pain, it's over soon...who am I kidding?  
_"Father, please!" Draco gasped. "You'll kill me! Let's be reasonable and talk about it..."  
Lucius eyes narrowed.  
"Fascinating." He said in a voice expressing the opposite. "Now you're willing to listen, are you? Just as the Longbottom creep when under the slightest pressure. I recall his parents said the same in about this situation." Lucius flashed a mean smile. "Speaking of him, I think we're done with the Christmas incident for now. By all means, let's discuss Longbottom."  
_This was only about Christmas so far? Oh, FUCK!_

This day, Snape hated his life. He hated his work and above all, he really, really hated the Malfoy family. Imagine that the arrogant, ingratiating slimeball had the nerve to confide in him in such a way as to leave the half-dead Draco over to his care, as if Snape had any obligation to cover up Lucius' contemptous methods.  
Well, this time things were about to change. And it was payback time for both the times Lucius had handed Draco over to him like that, but most of all, for trespassing on Snape's territory.  
As usual, Lucius expected tea as soon as the unconcious Draco was put into Snape's bed in a nearby room. Snape gave Draco the same sleeping draught Neville had recieved, to make sure he wouldn't have to wake up for at least twelve hours. But the wounds were too precarious this time and he would have to bring madame Pomfrey into it soon enough.  
But not until this little scene was over. Snape wouldn't miss it for the world.  
As he poured the hot tea into Lucius cup, he handled the conversation smoothly as always, not touching the matter about Draco at all.  
"So, how fares the Malfoy investments?" he asked, showing a glimpse of curiousity. The truth was that the topic had to win an award for the most boring conversation material ever.  
But Lucius was more than eager to discuss it, having a satisfied calm over him now that his frustrations had been brought over to Draco.  
"It couldn't have been better and it is certainly right in time, now that the Dark Lord..."  
A knock was heard and before Snape could answer, the door was opened and Hermione stood in the doorway.  
"Did I tell you to enter, Granger?" Snape shot at her, feigning his irritation perfectly.  
"I'm sorry professor, but there is a guest who wanted to see you and I took the liberty to show her to your...er... office." She cast a disdainful glance around the dungeons, giving a start as she spotted Lucius in one of the armchairs by the desk.  
_The girl is a natural actress.  
_Lucius gave her a vicious smile, but the smile froze on his lips and faded as his wife suddenly strode through the door.  
Snape had to use all his discipline not to smile in the same manner Lucius had done recently. Instead, he raised an eyebrow in surprise, getting to his feet.  
"Mrs Malfoy. If I had known of your visit, I'd..."  
"Please, Severus, be seated. I was looking for my husband." Narcissa said, playing along just fine by leaving Snape out of all suspicion. "This little...Gryffindor here" She wrinkled her nose at Hermione, "had some information I decided to check up on."  
Hermione glared innocently at Lucius, giving him the clear impression that she was to blame.  
"Leave the room at once, Granger!" Snape warned her, enjoying the act so much, he put more soul into it than he did with his graduation tests.  
Hermione backed out of the room and closed the door behind her.  
Lucius got up from his chair to recieve his wife, who sent more chilly vibrations towards him than even Snape was able to accomplish.  
Lucius reached his hand out to grasp Narcissa's in a hopeless attempt to uphold normality. Narcissa didn't take it.  
"Is something wrong, my dear?" Lucius asked, putting on a show of slight concern.  
Snape, who thought that Narcissa's eyes couldn't get any colder, was proven wrong.  
"I heard you picked up Draco at school this morning." She said, using her infamous frosty voice. "I was surprised you did not tell me."  
Lucius raised an eyebrow.  
"Ah. Draco and I needed to sort certain things out and I thought it appropiate that we did so in private." He answered her, his voice still not revealing anything out of the ordinary.  
But Snape noted with glee that he avoided lying to his wife as much as possible.  
"I see." Narcissa turned her eyes to Snape, ignoring her husband very dramatically. "Where is my son now, by the way? I would like to meet him."  
Lucius was clearly annoyed about Narcissa's ignorance towards him, displayed in public and all.  
"Could it possibly wait, my dear?" he asked, his voice silky despite the venom dripping from it. "It's eleven o'clock in the evening after all."  
Now came Snape's favourite part, where he would actually seem to take sides with Lucius to keep him out of trouble, like a good Death eater-brother.  
"Your husband has a point." Snape agreed, surprised at meeting a gaze colder than his own. "The students have been to bed since an hour back. If you like, I could give him a message."  
Narcissa seemed to ponder the words for a moment before nodding and Lucius eyes glimmered with victory. But as usual, Hermione's timing was impeccable.  
She let the door fly open with a bang and stood in the doorway holding a perfect pose of a righteous Gryffindor, her fists clutched and her face red with fury from the unjustice.  
"NO!" she yelled, looking straight at Narcissa, who had turned to heighten her eyebrows in dislike. "I heard you! They're lying, Mrs Malfoy!"  
Snape burst forward to drag her out with the speed of lightning, but Hermione managed to press it all out, before they were in the corridor and Snape shut the door behind them.  
"He's in Snape's room! He's almost dead!"  
As the echoes faded from the violent closing of the door, Snape let go of Hermione instantly. The Gryffindor's eyes were shining and her cheeks were flustered from the excitement of the act. The change between characters came so quickly that Snape decided to keep a watchful eye on her for the rest of her stay at Hogwarts. This kind of Slytherin behaviour was all too familiar.  
Hermione lingered by the door with the plain intention to eavesdrop. That was exactly what Snape intended to do and so he sent a protesting Hermione away, engaging himself completely in the angry voices behind the door. Once again it was proved that malice was the only true joy.

Draco had a very soothing awakening, as a hand carefully stroke his hair. His eyelids were too heavy to open and his limbs to numb to obey him from the painremoving draughts. But in the half-slumber he heard Neville's voice, wondering if it was mere wishful thinking. Maybe he was hallucinating now, still trapped in the basement. But the hand felt very real.  
"Draco? I don't know if you can hear me." His voice sounded thick with tears. "McGonagall says I can only stay for a little while. You're in Snape's room after all and he doesn't look like he really wants me here. I'm up walking now, since a few days back and...I really miss you. They say we can't talk to each other when you're healed and your mother will be here so I can't really come back to visit you, or that's what Snape says, but Draco, you know that I love you, right? I'm so sorry I couldn't help you."  
Then Draco felt several kisses on his lips and face. He tried to answer them the best he could, aware that his efforts brought him absolutely no results.  
It was dead frustrating.  
"I have to go." Neville whispered into his ear. "But I think about you night and day. Remember that."  
Then the soothing hand disappeared and before Draco drifted back to sleep, reality lay painfully clear before him. He might have allies in this school and even though both he and Neville had lived through their peril, it was no option to take that risk again. His father was but one of a crowd waiting to bring ruin upon them.

The safe illusions had shattered. And if he wanted Neville to live, he would need to remove him as far as possible from any death eater-influences and that, unfortunately, included even himself.

NOT the end...


	15. Jealousy

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

_Now you're standing there tounge tied  
__You'd better learn your lesson well  
__Hide what you have to hide  
__And tell what you have to tell  
__You'll see your problems multiplied  
__If you continually decide  
__To faithfully pursue the policy of truth  
_-**D.M.-**

When Neville entered the great hall for breakfast this morning, he nearly stumbled into everyone he met. A few moments ago, he had passed two whispering Slytherins, catching a few words about Draco coming back to the lessons. The official story was that Draco had been away in urgent family business the last three weeks and the Gryffindor house had been cheering wildly at the news. Well, not Neville of course and Hermione had been very quiet about it.  
But she had told him about the wonderful setup she had made, convincing Snape into helping them, and even though the weeks had passed in misery without Draco, Neville could rest a lot easier knowing that Draco's mother watched over him day and night.  
But the one thing keeping him sleepless was the memory of seeing Draco abused in such a way, that night when McGonagall had convinced Snape to let him in before Narcissa moved in temporarily.  
His eyes filled with tears every time he recalled it, the guilt overpowering him. But the most forceful reaction was one quite new.  
Revenge.  
Lucius might have gotten away easily when trying to kill him, but he just couldn't escape the consequences of hurting somebody Neville held so dear. It was all too cruel, too unfair to accept in Neville's Gryffindor heart.  
Neville took his seat with an unsettling gaze, casting looks over to the door not to miss Draco's entrance.

As Draco woke up this morning in Snape's bedroom, he jumped out of bed immediatly to check himself in the mirror. His limbs were still aching a little from the Basement Incident but he could walk around good enough and his main concern now was too make sure his stunning looks were intact. Anxiously, he scanned every inch of himself for newbegotten flaws, but Madame Pomfrey seemed to have done a very good job. Even the remaining bruises were so pale, they could easily melt in as shadows playing over his face.  
With a sigh of relief, he started to put his clothes on, overjoyed to regain some former dignity again. But above all, this meant that he would be able to catch a glimpse of Neville. Only a glimpse, nothing else. And then...nothing else would happen. He couldn't risk one more earthquake like this one and if he just forgot all about him, then everything would work out just fine. He could concentrate on homework instead, right?  
Snape and his mother had promised him that he could participate at the lessons today and it couldn't be more needed.  
Excluding the boredom, he would need something else to put his mind on before the holidays came and he would need to return home where his father waited.  
Even though his mother had guaranteed horrific penalties for Lucius if he tried anything, the mere presence of his father would be painful enough.  
But Draco had been sure to let the layers of ice rebuild themselves inside him again. His misjudgements had nearly proven themselves fatal and it would not happen again.  
Just as he put his hand on the doorknob to greet his mother good morning, he froze as he heard the outer door open and the familiar clattering of the cane against the floor. The blood turning cold in his veins, he leaned his ear to the door remaining perfectly still.  
"What are you doing here?" he heard his mother ask, frostier than the queen of winter.  
Next, just as he feared, he heard his father answer her as silky as his fury would allow.  
"I'm your husband and Draco is my son too, in case you've forgotten."  
"Oh. You could have fooled me."  
Draco could only imagine the terrible vibes she sent out right now. He almost felt them through the door.  
"Narcissa dear, you cannot solely decide how we solve family matters." Lucius said, his voice very poisonous.  
"Of course you are free to exercise your own will, my dear husband. But the next time something even remotely alike to this happen, you are out of the house."  
Draco almost dropped his jaw and he couldn't resist the urge to let an inch of the door open to catch the look on his father's face.  
And he had his reward.  
Lucius had gone white with rage, but his mother still sat by the table with an air of regal calm around her, not even looking up as she continued to sort out some of Snape's potions bottles.  
"Oh, indeed." Lucius said, fighting to keep his voice restrained. "May I remind you that the Malfoy castle belongs to my family and not to yours? If it does not suit you..."  
"...then it will fall with your family, since nobody is going to inherit it."  
"Excuse me?"  
Narcissa turned her cold eyes up to glare at Lucius.  
"If I go, Draco goes with me. If you think I'd leave him alone with you, you must underestimate me indeed."  
"DRACO IS MY SON AND HE'S GOING NOWHERE!" Lucius shouted all of a sudden, giving Draco a real start.  
Narcissa remained rigid in her chair, looking very unimpressed.  
"I think he would disagree with you very much at the moment." Narcissa drawled. "Unless you have a _very_ impressive trick in your sleeve to make this up for him."  
Lucius calmed down, his eyes narrowing as he studied his wife cleverly.  
"Ah. So you are taking sides with his mad teenage revolt, are you? Have you given half a thought to the preservance of the bloodline, if you let him follow every whim, not to speak of the family's reputation that is, may I remind you, even your reputation?"  
"I can handle my own reputation very well, thank you!" Narcissa snarled.  
"So can I and I do." Lucius hissed. "If you insist on rewarding him every time he steps out of line, you are going to regret it very dearly as the rise against you next."  
"Oh, _please_." Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Your dramatic flair does not become you all that well."  
"Think about the cause, woman!" Every word had a heavy weight to them. "Do you expect the Dark lord to accept such behaviour from his chosen? You do remember who sent Draco the letter?"  
"Neville Longbottom." His mother answered, as if she was about to lecture him. "Speaking of which, I heard he was treated for mortal wounds a few weeks ago. How very unwise of you."  
"Why would I care about that?" Lucius snapped.  
Narcissa gave him a cold smile.  
"Imagine you had the nerve to execute such a blatant act."  
"I didn't know you held the Longbottoms so high in regard. You heard the Dark lord's wish to have them extinct, did you not?"  
Draco held his breath, not to make a sound.  
"I couldn't care less about the Longbottoms." Narcissa said. "But if I were you, I wouldn't deprive Draco of his precious toys. You are much too alike when disappointed."  
Draco bit his tounge in anger.  
_No! I'm definitely not like him, not at all, not at all...  
_Subconciously he started to make plans to drag Lucius down to the basement and cut his face to shreds as to separate the physical similarity between them forever.  
"Such nonsense!" Lucius spat. "Will you stand by your words in front of the Dark lord, when he finds out that our son is fucking the enemy?"  
"_Language!_" Narcissa hissed. "Draco is still very young and anything could change within weeks. He is dating Pansy any moment now."  
A few seconds of silence passed between them.  
"You know it to be a lie as well as I do." Lucius said finally.  
"Does it matter? He is clever enough to learn from his mistakes."  
"Let us hope so, because if he brings any Gryffindor into his private sphere again..."  
"Look who's talking!" Narcissa's eyes flashed dangerously. "As I recall it, you couldn't take your eyes from that bitch for a Gryffindor, Lily, for years!"  
Draco clasped his hand to his mouth not to gasp aloud.  
Lucius fired back at once, flaming as if Narcissa had struck a match.  
"How ignorant, forgetting to mention your childish, immature crush upon Snape of all people!"  
Draco was biting his fingers now. Noway, not his teacher...  
Narcissa sneered at her husband, putting her nose in the air.  
"Such hard words for someone who impress you so much?" she asked, sounding deceptively innocent. "By the way, I was fifteen!"  
"So is Draco." Lucius said, in a low, furious voice. "And fifteen means making mistakes!"  
Suddenly the door opened again and Snape stepped in, hit by a deafening, quaking silence. He raised an eyebrow and looked from one to the other.  
"Good morning, Lucius." He said, obviously choosing to ignore the dreadful mood in the room and the killing glare he recieved from Lucius. "I'm merely here to fetch the essays of the students, so you will not be disturbed..."  
"Oh, I don't mind at all." Narcissa said, smiling at him in a way that made Draco's stomach turn almost inside out. He didn't want to see his own mother doing the sexy look and especially not to his teacher!  
If Snape noticed it, he masked it completely and left the room as soon as his papers were found. But not before throwing a suspicious eye on his bottles before Narcissa.  
As the door slammed shut, Draco could see his father's clutched fists trembling with anger.  
"If you wish to move into the teacher's quarters here at Hogwart's instead, just tell me so that I can make arrangements..."  
"You are acting like a child." Narcissa shot back, not letting the smile leave her lips completely, while lifting another bottle from the table.  
Draco stood stunned with admiration that she dared to anger Lucius in such a way.  
"Am I?" Lucius' voice was murderous silky again. "I can see where our son had his queer ideas from."  
"Oh?"  
"Be assured, I have taken precautions not to let things get out of hand. And from now on, Draco is straight, whether he wishes it or not."  
Lucius turned to leave the room, but Narcissa rose and moved with catlike reflexes to block the door. She crossed her arms, not letting Lucius intimidating stare move her.  
"What did you do?" she whispered, her voice demanding and a little threatening at the same time.  
Draco swallowed. He did not wish to be reminded.  
"The same as I will do to Snape if he even dares..."  
"Oh I don't think so. You're scared to death of him. What did you do to my son?"  
Draco's grip around the doorknob was absolutely cramped. He gripped it so tight his knuckles went white. Something lingered in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite reach. And he did not want to remember, not now, not now when he was to look at Neville soon.  
_Please, don't tell mom. You can't, because I know it's really, really bad_ _and I intend to forget everything about it, I already have, don't tell her...  
_"I did nothing he did not thoroughly deserve. You should have heard the way he dared speaking to me!"  
"I'll find out." She said coldly. "And then you better have a good motivation in your defence speech for every little bruise."  
"I'm under no obligation to excuse my actions in front of you!" Lucius spat.  
"I'm under no obligation to satisfy your needs in bed until you talk."  
Draco grimaced. He wished he had never heard that.  
"I'll find other means if you refuse, be sure about that." He stung back.  
"Well, at least I know somebody alive to turn my affections to." Her voice was sharp as a knife as she glanced at Snape's potion bottles. Then she simply stepped aside, challenging Lucius' deadly gaze.  
"Leave." She said, as he put his hand on the doorhandle.  
"I intended to!" he snarled and stormed out, shutting the door with a bang that sent unpleasant shivers through Draco. As he loosened his hand around the doorknob, it was covered with coldsweat.

Ron was making an effort to reach the sausages at the table without touching Neville as Draco walked in and recieved the greetings from his fellow Slytherins. Neville noted with a sting in his chest that he took place next to Pansy, who smiled happily towards him.  
"Nevvy, can you fetch me the...Christ!"  
It was Harry who asked and Neville had turned a murderous stare at him, still with his mind on Pansy.  
Ignoring Harry, Neville slowly turned his head to the Slytherin table again, just in time to see Draco whisper something into her ear, making her laugh.  
And Draco looked at her in that...that affectionate, seductive way as he always did to Neville, claiming her with his gaze and she blushed!  
The lump in his throat made him want to throw all the food up. Without knowing what he did, he rose from the table and rushed out, before anyone could ask questions.  
He ran all the way to his room, the tears flowing in abundance as he threw himself at the bed and let loose the full force of the despair. He wanted to die! Lucius should have killed him to spare him the sight!  
This was too much, what if Draco had been pretending with him all the time, only doing it for sport to degrade him? His head tried to tell him no, that Draco had actually saved his life and got a severe punishment because of his feelings for him. But what if he decided it wasn't worth it? What if Lucius had succeeded in scaring him?  
Neville sobbed heartbrokenly into the pillow, deciding never to smile again in his whole life.  
Minutes later, Harry stepped through the door, seating himself on the bed beside Neville.  
"Go away!" Neville sobbed, drying the tears with his sleeves as fresh ones broke out.  
Instead, Harry put his arms around Neville's shoulders and Neville threw his arms around him, almost crying his eyes out.  
"How could he!? How could he!? Did you see what he did with Pansy?"  
"Well." Harry said very carefully. "I think it looked like they talked just as usual."  
"No, they didn't! If she touches him, I'll kill her!"  
"I told you he wasn't good for you." Harry sighed. "You deserve a lot better than that wretch!"  
"DON'T CALL HIM THAT!"  
"Look, just try to get over him and find someone better..."  
"I love him, Harry!"  
Harry looked at Neville with concern and pity, seemingly beyond the point of anger about the subject.  
"Well, I know how that is." he sighed. "Not with Malfoy, thank god!" he hurried to say. "Look, maybe you overreacted. I mean, if he's gay, why would he want to hang with her anyway?"  
"He better not." Neville sniffed, digging his nails into his own palms.  
But as the week moved on, things got steadily worse.  
Pansy was always around Draco and sometimes they walked around hand in hand even without Crabbe and Goyle nearby.

Then the fatal day came, when the fifth years struggled through a potion's lesson under severe pressure. Snape had increased the discipline tremendously after the substitute teacher, as if punishing the class for their lucky break. But Neville, who was paired with Harry during the brewing, did worse than he had for a long time. He kept Pansy and Draco under constant watch, noting to his grief how they were working together, their hands touching a bit too long and their smiles too appreciating towards each other.  
Then it happened.  
Draco leant forward and kissed Pansy on the cheek.  
Neville thought his heart would stop. He started to tremble and then he just whispered to Harry, his jealousy taking over his mind completely.  
"Harry, kiss me."  
Harry turned to look at him.  
"What?"  
Without waiting another second, Neville caught Harry's cheeks between his hands and locked his mouth over Harry's, forcing his tounge into the boy-who-lived while sweeping him up in a strong, passionate grip.  
A crashing noise was heard and the next second, Draco had glass splinters in his hand from the test tube that had smashed between his fingers.  
Surprised gasps and comments were heard across the classroom and not one of them had anything to do with Draco's accident.  
Next, Cho rushed up to the kissing couple and hit Harry hard with the fist on his cheek, before running out of the classroom in tears.  
Her action broke the kiss, sending Harry crashing into his bench.  
"Ew, disgusting!" Pansy shouted and then Neville 'accidentily' tripped and spilled the contents of his cauldron over her.  
Crabbe and Goyle flew up with angry shouts, throwing themselves over him as if Draco had trained them into doing so.  
Pansy screamed as the hot liquid hit her and by then, Hermione, Justin and Jordan were on their feet to beat Crabbe and Goyle up.  
But the one reacting strongest of them all was Snape.  
"STOP THIS AT ONCE!" he bellowed, with such force that several students dropped their tubes and the most easily frightened ones cowered behind their benches.  
He stormed to the center of the events, but instead of interrupting the fight first, he grabbed Harry furiously by the arm and pulled him along as he separated the participants in the brawl from each other by his mere gaze.  
The classroom fell silent in a heartbeat, heavy fear hanging over the room as Snape looked more furious than they had ever seen him.  
Draco still hadn't moved, remaining strangely frozen in his position as Snape ordered all the involved participants to his desk, including Pansy, who sobbed from her burns. Draco was left out of it and was sent off to madame Pomfrey with his cuts.  
"Now, we need to straighten things out." Snape said, his voice threatening to give way to the anger. "This does not happen in my classroom and it will never, I repeat, _never _happen again!"  
The assembly of students at his desk stood in frightened silence, not daring to meet his gaze or even breathe too loud.  
Only Neville had his mind on something else as he glanced at the wounded Pansy with a strange satisfaction in his stomach.  
"Jordan, Fichley and Hermione have detentions. Crabbe and Goyle can consider themselves warned."  
Nobody dared to comment the injustice.  
"Miss Parkinson may go to the medicine cabin and use the salve against burns."  
Pansy walked off, throwing Neville a poisonous glare. Neville felt himself smirk for the first time in his life.  
You, Longbottom, have a month's detention to serve and Potter..."  
Snape almost flashed his teeth at Harry in rage.  
"...You are staying here after class, so that I may have the pleasure to accompany you to Headmistress Umbridge."  
Harry looked baffled.  
"_WHAT?_"  
"I'm warning you!" Snape said. "Return to your seats all of you and behave, unless you wish me to hang you up by your thumbs like Mr Filch."  
  
Draco let madame Pomfrey tend to his hand in complete silence. He showed no emotion towards the pain whatsoever and he hardly heard Pomfrey's woes over his bad luck, being hurt when he had so recently healed and so on, and so on. As soon as she was finished wrapping his hand up in white bindings, he walked away with steady steps to linger behind a classroom door near the Gryffindor dormitories. The gruesome murder of Harry Potter had to wait only for a little while. There was somebody else who had to answer to his actions first.

Finally, Neville's class came walking past Draco's hiding place and as Neville dragged his feet after him as usual, unengaged in Ron's and Justin's heated discussion about Snape's deed, Draco grabbed him by the speed of lightning and pulled him into the room. He shut the door and locked it, not paying the slightest attention to the fact that the other Gryffindors probably were alarmed at the sound and would notice Neville's disappearance within moments.  
Draco had cleverly covered Neville's mouth, not to have him howling with fear at the kidnapping. Neville looked unnerved enough after the incident with Lucius, but Draco found it very hard to show him sympathy about it right now.  
"Look at me!" he snarled, pinning Neville to the wall so forcefully, he could have crushed the bones in Neville's arms if he had chosen to.  
Neville regained his breath and stared back with equal deadliness.  
"Don't you touch me EVER again!" he spat, trying to break lose from Draco's grip.  
"You don't want to make me any angrier, believe me!" Draco hissed. "So when exactly did Harry replace me? Make sure not to leave any detail out!"  
"Ow, let go, you disgusting, cheating wretch!"  
"Watch your tounge! It's truly sliding in forbidden territories!"  
"You have the NERVE to be angry! Do you think I'm blind, the way you show off with Pansy in front of everyone! You KISSED her!"  
Tears started to well up in Neville's eyes. Draco looked beside himself with frustration.  
"STOP THAT!" he roared. "Stop it before I..."  
He glared at Neville, unable to finish his sentence.  
_Don't do this, everything was under such perfect control!  
_On the other side of the door, he heard knocking and somebody was pulling the handle to get in.  
"You're mine." Draco whispered. "Harry has got to die for touching you like that."  
"_Pansy _has to die!" Neville sobbed.  
"_Neville? Are you in there?"  
_"Yes! I'm fine!" Neville shouted. "Just leave me alone!" His voice sounded so hurt however, that he was not very likely fooling anybody.  
"_You need to talk?"_ It was Hermione's voice.  
"NO! GO AWAY! WE'LL TALK LATER!"  
Low murmuring was heard from the outside and finally footsteps fading away.  
Draco jerked Neville's arm very harshly to pull him along as he scanned the classroom for other exits.  
"You'll pay for this!" Draco said, his voice flaming with indignance.  
Neville hit him several times with his free hand, but Draco just caught it and pushed him towards a door behind the blackboard, kicking it open as he forced Neville over the treshold. With an effort he managed to lock it behind them, throwing Neville on the floor as he slipped the key into his pocket.  
"You piece of shit!" Neville gasped.  
"You just hit me three times!" Draco growled. "And you had your tounge down Harry's throat, let's not forget about that!"  
The small room they had entered seemed to be a large, old out-of-use-classroom, filled to the brim with old blackboards, maps and the sleepingbags they had used in their third year, when Potter's maniac godfather was loose on the school.  
Draco flicked his wand and had the fireplace lit, spreading a comfortable glow in the blood-chilling, uncomfortable situation.  
They were both silent for a moment, before Draco turned to Neville without any trace of warmth in his voice.  
"Well, Neville. Let's find out about your affections, shall we?"


	16. Damage

Hello there, all readers!

Thanx for your wonderful response on the story and for faithfully reviewing!  
It's very inspiring to get such wonderful feedback and I hope you'll bear with me through the last number of chapters on this little story.  
Please continue to let me know what you think and remember that flames will be used to light a candle for our couples' complications.;-)  
This chapter has a little stronger containts than usual, so take note if you have a weak stomach. Love to you all,

Redfern

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: DAMAGE**

_Just love me, love me, love me  
__You nail me to the ground and  
__turn my guts inside out  
__Get it out, get it out, get it out  
__Get your fucking voice out of my head  
__Never wanted this, never wanted any of this  
__I wish you were dead, I wish you were dead  
_-The cure-

A month ago, Neville would have known this situation for a perfect, impossible dream, trapped with Draco in a secluded room. But now, everything was just awful. Draco looked as if he readily could commit murder and Neville didn't feel any less infuriated.  
He rose from the floor and eyed Draco defiantly, noting with an uncomfortable shiver that Draco held a striking resemblance to his father when angered.  
"Stand absloutely still, Neville!"  
Draco was hissing his s's like a snake when he spoke, advancing in a predatory way that caused Neville to walk backwards until his back touched the wall.  
"I told you to be still!" Draco snarled, catching Neville's wrists as fast as if he was chasing the snitch and pressed his hands to the wall.  
Neville gasped with fear, fighting to keep the tears from spilling again. His anger started to transform into dread against his will.  
"Draco, stop it!" he whimpered, not willing to continue the fight a moment longer.  
Draco seemed ignorant to his pleas, nailing him to the wall while driving his knee in between Neville's legs to separate them.  
"Oh, you'd like to talk now? A moment ago you preferred kissing!"  
With this, Draco stabbed his teeth into Neville's lower lip, letting blood drip before releasing it. Neville cried out in pain, unable to hold the tears back any longer.  
"DRACO, STOP!!! YOU'RE HURTING ME!"  
Startled into regaining his senses, Draco backed off in shock at Neville's outburst, seeing the terror beaming from him.  
Neville was crying openly, hiding his face in his hands as he sank down against the wall.  
Draco tried desperatly to fight his confusion, thorn between the need to give Neville a serious penalty fuck and to grasp what was happening.  
"What's the matter with you?" Draco snapped. He didn't mean to sound so contemptous, but Neville's sudden rejection stung him very unexpectantly.  
All the answers he got were loud sobs, making him feel like a revolting monster. Now it was Draco's turn to panick.  
"Stop it, Neville!"  
He kneeled beside the Gryffindor, feeling just as miserable as Neville were displaying and grabbed his shoulders to pull him close.  
"Please, don't hurt me!" Neville cried, trying to squirm out of Draco's grip.  
But Draco pulled Neville into his arms instead.  
"Hurt _you_?" Draco asked indignantly. "_You_ were the one who gave yourself to Potter!"  
"You kissed Pansy!"  
"I kiss my mother on the cheek too!" Draco argued. "And for your information, nothing else has happened!"  
This seemed to calm Neville a little, but the tears kept coming.  
"I don't think I can do this, Draco."  
Draco thought his heart missed a beat.  
"What? What do you mean?"  
Neville lifted his head from Draco's shoulder, but kept his eyes on the floor.  
I can't really know if you love me, because you never say it and if you don't, well then get out of here and let me deal with this alone!"  
"You're more dramatic than moaning Myrtle!"  
But as he said it, a terrible thought popped up in Draco's mind.  
_(Be sure, I have taken precautions not to let things get out of hand.)  
_"Neville?" Draco whispered in a very small voice. "We have to talk. Let's get up."  
Neville hesitantly pulled himself up as Draco had an arm still around him.  
"Here. Let's sit on the sleeping bags." Draco suggested, careful not to pull Neville too hard with him.  
_(And from now on, Draco is straight, whether he wishes it or not.)  
_Draco unfolded some of the sleeping bags and took his seat there with Neville. He took a moment to remove his shoes and helped Neville off with his too. Neville glared suspiciously at him, but Draco just shook his head and sighed.  
"I said we'll talk, Neville!"  
Then he simply leant his back on a bag against the wall, while pulling Neville with him. He made sure that the Gryffindor rested comfortably against him, before putting an arm possessively around his shoulders. It took more self-restraint than he thought he had to keep his voice calm.  
"You have to tell me what happened in the astronomy tower, Neville."  
But his fingers had turned cold before he heard any answer.  
"I can't." Neville whispered, sounding miserable.  
"Yes, you can. And you will."  
"Please, I just can't! You'll despise me and I can't live with that!"  
Draco's hatred against his father started to boil inside and he clenched Neville harder.  
"Pomfrey must know and maybe even Snape and McGonagall, but I don't!" he hissed. "It's not fair, Neville!"  
But Neville pouted stubbornly, refusing to look up at him.  
"I'll never tell you." He simply said. "Why don't you tell me what happened to _you_?"  
Draco sighed impatiently, not very content with drawing sharper weapons against Neville.  
"Well, Lucius obviously don't want me to know about you, so then he has won!" Draco said, not finding it too hard to make his voice sound hurt.  
Neville looked up at him accusingly now.  
"How dare you?" he whispered. "And if I tell you, you'll leave me and go after him and die while trying!"  
"There is no other way around this." Draco said mercilessly, sounding a lot like Snape. "And if you think I'll leave you now, as if I haven't already tried for my life to forget all about you, you're absolutely insane!"  
Neville sighed unhappily and pressed a little closer to Draco.  
"I really wish I could let you know, but I can't."  
Draco nodded and rose from the floor, leaving Neville with a suspicious expression on his face. Draco turned to face him.  
"Will you show me, then?"  
"What?" Neville looked horrified.  
Draco withdrew his wand and looked at Neville in a calculating way.  
"If you just relax, I will go into your head and see for myself."  
"No!" Neville looked very insulted. "I said, no! Why don't you just drop the subject now?"  
Draco shrugged.  
"As you wish." He said, making a movement as if putting the wand back. "LEGITIMENS!"  
The room swirled before him and disappeared. The scenes came soaring past him, taking shape to unveil themselves before falling away to reveal another.  
There was Neville, standing in a hospital room in front of a man and a woman, tears falling while trying in vain to get their attention. He couldn't be more than five.  
Then came Hogwarts and Neville ran off to cry, after he, Draco told Neville during a quiddich game that he was the dumbest student at school.  
An old lady stood with him in a kitchen, serving him pancakes, while telling him something pleasant, to judge from their faces. The letter for acceptance at Hogwarts lay beside them. Neville beamed.  
Suddenly he was standing by a tombstone, snow whirling around him as Neville drew his thin robes closer around him, shivering.  
They were in the forest, him and Neville, clinging tightly to each other under the robes while kissing, sharing a perfect moment of unity.  
_Show it to me, yield to it!  
_The scenes seemed framed in darkness all of a sudden. Neville stood watching his classmates from a distance, ignored.  
He climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower, pressing a note in his hand very tightly.  
Something shattered. Lucius was there, his face looking a hundred times more monstrous than Draco had ever imagined him.  
Then Neville was at the wall, a knife flashing in his father's hand.  
The scene became blurred all of a sudden, as he felt Neville trying to push him out of his head.  
_Noway, not now! I'm going to see this, I'm not leaving you alone with it! legitimens, legitimens…  
_Draco wasn't even aware of whether he spoke the words out loud or only thought them, but it showed result. The scene came into focus again and it was truly painful, as if Neville's misery sank in to him with the breakthrough.

As Draco came to his senses again, he was kneeling on the floor, his head spinning with so much rage he thought he would go out of his mind.  
Neville's sobs pulled him out of it as the room seemed less dim. Neville was curled up on the sleeping bags, crying violently while holding his hands as a protective shield over his head.  
Draco dropped his wand carelessly on the floor and rushed to him, seizing him by his robes to crush him close in his embrace.  
Neville gave a frightened cry and when he realised it was Draco, he hit his attacker in the face, beside himself with rage.  
"YOU HAD NO RIGHT! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! DON'T TOUCH ME!"  
Despite the blows raining, Draco stubbornly held on to Neville, taking the blows as they came. He did deserve them after all, Neville had a point there.  
"Calm down, Neville! I had to, don't you see? OW!"  
Neville struck him on the nose and broke free, rushing to the door. Draco intercepted him at the speed of lightning, blocking the exit as if protecting it with his life.  
"Out of my way!" Neville snarled, his face a living mask of despair.  
"Never!"  
"I'm warning you!" Neville rose his fists again.  
"You wanted to talk and then you refused to! How dared you try to keep this from me? How dared you even think I would resent you for it?!"  
"I said no and you ignored it!"  
"I told you to tell me and you ignored it! For how long were you planning to keep it to yourself? Forever? You know as well as I do, this would have been the end of everything we've been fighting for! And if you're ending it now, nothing could have stopped that anyway, hadn't I intervened!"  
Neville stood still, glaring at him.  
"And just so you know," Draco continued, more upset than Neville, "I'll make Lucius pay for his BIG TIME, you just won't believe what I'll do to him, but I'm not rushing off without any backup! And I'm not leaving you alone with it, no matter what! You won't leave this room until he has left you, _permanently_." Draco drew after breath. "Him and Potter." He corrected himself.  
"How can you still care? You'll be digusted touching me now!" Neville looked so sad, Draco caught him in an embrace again and kissed him before he could stop himself. Neville stumbled and broke the kiss.  
"What do you think you're doing?!" Neville demanded, more confused than angry.  
Draco glared sternly at him for a moment.  
_You can't leave me, I love you more than my own life, but don't make me fucking say it!  
_Instead of answering, Draco kissed his eyelids, his cheeks and his lips as if trying to communicate something that was tied to his tounge.  
Neville let him do it and finally his head fell against Draco's shoulder, his arms sliding shyly around Draco's waist.  
"You owe me one now." Neville whispered. "You have to tell me as well."  
"In time." Draco whispered. "Not now. We'll handle one thing at a time."  
The truth was he never intended to breathe a word about the basement. Not only could he not bring himself to do it, but he wasn't sure he remembered all that well. As if touching fire, he flinched from it and started to pull Neville with him to the sleeping bags again.  
_(Father, please! You'll kill me! Let's be reasonable and talk about it!)  
_He kissed Neville feverishly, feeling the warm body underneath him yield to it. Sparks came to life as Neville's hands stroke his back, pressing down as if trying to bring them closer together. Then he looked at Draco anxiously.  
"You know, the last thing I want is a pity-fuck." he said.  
Draco almost gasped at hearing Neville use that word. Then he raised his eyebrow in a Snapeish way.  
"Maybe you don't, but I could certainly use one right now, so if you don't mind…"  
Then he buried his teeth deep down Neville's tender throat, hearing the loud, rapturous gasp in reward as he sucked at the spot, determined to make a statement about his ownership once and for all. Soon they were making out in a mess of thrown robes and clothes, both growing more hard and eager by the minute. Draco didn't pull all his clothes off though. Neville wrapped his legs around Draco's hips, as if begging to be taken, pressing his groin up against Draco's sex.  
Draco couldn't stop himself from dripping just a little poison.  
"So, now Potter won't do, will he?"  
"I don't care about Harry!" Neville gasped. "Please, I need it!"  
"Really?" Draco pushed two fingers inside Neville, rocking them back and forth as Neville squirmed from the pleasure, moaning and gasping. "I still think you might need to be taught a lesson."  
He almost jumped at his own words and changing his plans immediatly, he removed his fingers from Neville and gave him a deep kiss instead.  
(_I still think you might need to be taught a lesson.)  
_No, he didn't just say that, or if he did, it wasn't the same.  
_Forget it!  
_Draco planned to prepare Neville for entering, kissing the salty wet cheeks. But he couldn't push into him. He just couldn't.  
Not because of what Lucius had done with the knife, because if anything was needed, it was the act of sealing the bond once again between him and Neville, proving his father's actions powerless against them.  
Some strange sickness threatened to rise in Draco and he pushed it down with an effort and sealed his mouth with Neville's to find comfort, while stroking his lover's sex again. Neville went all soft against his touch, straining and groaning to attain satisfaction, as Draco kept playing with him. Finally, Neville couldn't hold back anymore and Draco teased him all through the exstacy, watching all the desperate moves Neville made to reach fully into the palm of Draco's hand.  
As soon as it was over, Draco simply lay down beside Neville, pressing him close while trying to deal with the sudden anguish emerging from nowhere. He had no will for satisfaction himself, as his stomach started to ache and the sickness he withheld pushed through.  
Neville clung to him and kissed him repeatedly, moving his hands down to Draco's sex. Draco caught them and held them put, while turning Neville around to embrace him from behind instead. But Neville squirmed back again to face him.  
"Draco? Is something wrong?" Neville's lower lip was trembling a little from the anxiousness, his uncertainity showing through the concern.  
"No." Draco lied.  
This seemed to unnerve Neville even more. His eyes went glazed with tears, trying to catch Draco's averted eyes.  
"Draco, please. What is it? Is it…me? Do you think I'm…"  
Neville couldn't bring himself to say it, but there was no need to. Draco looked very upset suddenly and glared sternly at him.  
"You know it's not you! It's _never _you, don't be silly!"  
_I love you, don't you understand? Don't make me say it!  
_Neville caressed his cheek very tenderly, pulling a sleeping bag over them. Draco wasn't sure if he needed to throw up or not, feeling worse by the minute.  
_(You understand why I have to do this, don't you?)  
_"Draco?"  
_(It's because you're my son, and I care more about you than anyone else does, even your mother.)  
_"Draco!"  
Neville pulled his arm a little to get response, looking very worried.  
"I'm fine, Neville. I just really need to sleep." Draco said in his usual calm voice. But the next moment, he leant over the floor and threw up.  
Neville was beside himself, holding Draco steady until it was over. Then he pushed him down on a pillow, waving his wand at the floor to clean up the remains from Draco's stomach. The cleaning spell was probably Neville's most practised spell, due to his clumbsiness during potions.  
Draco, on the other hand, stumbled to his feet and dressed very quickly, and was halfway through the room when Neville took notice of his strange behaviour. He rose from the floor himself, his eyes flashing with anger.  
"Hey! What's happening? You lied to me!"  
Draco sighed and stopped. Then he turned to face Neville.  
"I'm just not completely healed yet. It's all right." Draco tried not to hold any emotion in his voice, other than what he normally would use as an affectionate display towards Neville.  
"What, are you kidding? Where are you going?"  
"Out." Draco swallowed and took a few steps backwards, towards the door. "I just need…air."  
At this, all colour seemed to fade from Neville's cheeks.  
"But…you…"  
"I TOLD YOU, IT'S NOT YOU!!!"  
Neville jumped from Draco's outburst, but his hurt feelings towards Draco's rejection had his own rage leaping forward.  
"WELL, THEN WHAT THE HELL IS IT?" IF YOU'RE DISGUSTED, THEN JUST SAY SO AND I'LL…I'll…"  
He stopped, staring at Draco, who had closed his eyes and leant his back against the door, holding his fingers pressed to his forehead. For a mad moment, Neville thought he saw tears emerge in Draco's eyes and the tension in the room was growing unbearable.  
He just had to know what was happening. It was a nightmare!  
"Draco, what is it?"  
The silence was so thick in the room, that Neville almost heard the Slytherin's heart beat with his.

"_By all means, let's discuss Longbottom."  
__His father was standing with the belt in his hand and Draco shut his eyes to brace himself for the coming whipping. But instead of feeling the leather cause cracks on his skin, Lucius untied his hands from the hook, only to turn him around, facing the wall, and hung him up again. Then his pants were pulled down and Lucius grabbed him harshly around the waist with one hand, whispering into his ear while letting the belt brush against Draco's back.  
_"_A dreadful mistake, letting the enemy stain your pure, noble blood, all on account of a mindless urge for a fuck." Lucius' voice was dangerously silky."I really hope you were on top, Draco, or I'd be very disappointed."  
__Draco winced, shocked and unsettled about hearing his father talk about such private matters with him.  
__Then Lucius hand dropped the belt and came up to cover his mouth with perfect timing. Draco's frightened cry was quenched as he felt something hard pressed against his buttocks.  
__It couldn't be, it was his father after all, he was mistaken, his nerves were just not under control right now and he was in such pain, he could easily imagine things.  
__But no rationalisation in the world could justify what happened next.  
__Lucius hand around his waist moved down to cup Draco's naked sex. Draco gave a start and started to trash against the ropes in panick. He didn't care about his broken arm or the pain it caused whenever he moved. He tried to kick back at his father as hard as he could, but Lucius were holding him in an iron grip, only tightening his hold as Draco struggled.  
__It was impossible, this wasn't happening to him, his father tried to scare him and went just a little too far, that had to be it.  
_"_Such intricate behaviour does not become you." Lucius scorned. "And neither does your innocence. You are going to thank me for this, when you realise what other horrible mistakes I am now preventing you from making."  
__Draco was really scared now, praying in his inner mind that this had to be it, that his father would stop now, seeing him this scared.  
__But things went steadily worse.  
_"_You understand why I have to do this, don't you? It's because you're my son and I care about you more than anybody else does. Even your mother."  
__Draco felt Lucius lick his ear suddenly and he tried to squirm from it, not far from his tears, but he was pressed too tightly against Lucius to be able to move that much.  
_"_Be still!" Lucius hissed. "You've shamed your family enough and I'll make sure to have you clean again."  
__Then the impossible thing happened. His sex was released and instead Lucius pressed him against the wall and forced his own hard sex into Draco, doing absolutely nothing to ease the dreadful pain.  
__Draco fought a losing battle trying to prevent it and as soon as the last humiliating thrust sent the full length into him, Lucius removed his hand from Draco's mouth for a second. Draco howled with pain, his tears flowing freely, but the hand came into place to quench the cries again.  
_"_Hush now, Draco." Lucius sounded very reproaching. "I have taught you better than this, haven't I, hmm?" Lucius bit hard into Draco's ear, nibbling at it playfully with teeth sharp enough to draw blood.  
__Draco held as still as he could, feeling something vital collapse within him.  
__This couldn't be his father. Not the same person who taught him Quidditch as a child or loved to spoil him to make him stand out as special in front of his classmates.  
_"_That's it, my dear son. Be very still." Lucius silky voice said into his ear. "This is how you had Longbottom, wasn't it? Because I can tell nobody has had you like this before."  
__Draco was trembling and the coldsweat broke out. He felt as if his stomach had been turned inside out, but most of all, he just wished that he could die, or at least faint, from the degrading torture. But there was too much adrealine in his veins from the shock.  
__Then Lucius started to thrust into him, softly at first, clawing his nails up Draco's thigh, much in the fashion Draco liked doing to Neville. Draco whined miserably with each painstaking nudge, sobbing and crying violenty. He couldn't remember that he had ever cried this much in his life.  
_"_Oh, so you can give in to a Longbottom, but not to your own father, the head of your family?" Lucius mocked him, moving his hand to Draco's sex.  
__Draco gave a start as Lucius started to stroke his organ with horrible skill, but naturally, Draco was way beyond repelled to give his father the slightest reaction. He only prayed the near-collapse wouldn't cause his body to betray him and do things he couldn't live with.  
_"_You are still not very obedient." Lucius whispered maliciously. "I think I'm going to have to mark you, to make you understand who's in charge."  
__It was far too sinister, the similarities between privacy with Neville and what he experienced now. The last thing Draco wanted in his head at this moment was Neville, but his father found ways to constantly remind him.  
__Lucius bit and tore into the flesh of Draco's neck, while thrusting harder inside of him to confirm it as punishment.  
__Draco finally felt himself on the edge of unconsciousness again and fought to take a step into it. He tried to hold his breath and receive the pain enough to attain it.  
__The darkness ascended over him, making the pain distant and elusive as fog.  
__Unfortunately, it never swept him away.  
_"_Réveila."  
__Lucius whisper brought him back, setting a powerful spell into motion. Draco's mind refused to be anything but crystal clear, still experiencing the inflictions and exhaustion as brutal as they were.  
__He could only imagine the sly smile on his father's lips as he whispered with vicious thriumph in his ear.  
_"_I have you now."  
__Draco didn't have to look down to know what Lucius meant. His father had used the precious moment when Draco was out cold to have his body into the desired reaction.  
__Something broke within Draco at this. He couldn't take anymore. The cruelty his own father dealt him was too engulfing, too calculated.  
__Fresh tears broke out, with several miserable sobs. He wished he could speak, that Lucius would remove the hand from his mouth just enough for him to plead, beg for anything but this, but the small voice of reason inside told him it was the worst thing he could possibly do.  
__To his absolute horror, Lucius started to go softer on him instead, licking and kissing his tears while barely moving inside of him at all, continuing to work his sex very seductively. All in an intimate, sickening way. But Draco just felt like throwing up. In fact, he was very near to it, wondering if he would choke if he failed to keep it down, since the hand still covered his mouth.  
_"_You want to please your father, don't you?" Lucius whispered, with revolting tenderness. "And you will not be released until I get what I want from you."  
__Draco shut his eyes tighter. He didn't just hear that.  
__And now he just had to vomit.  
__As the convulsions started, Lucius jerked him threatheningly.  
_"_Swallow it!." he hissed. "There is no avoiding what is going to happen!"  
__No, Draco thought. But I can throw up on you.  
__And a moment later, Lucius hand was drenched with the contents of Draco's stomach. Furiously, he removed it and cleaned it on Draco's robes, while Draco emptied everything without restraint on the floor below him.  
_"_How dare you!" Lucius snarled, pressing him hard into the wall while slapping him in the back of his head. Then he shifted deceptively fast into comforting strokes and more intimate kisses.  
_"_Father, please…" Draco sobbed, his emotional control completely in pieces.  
_"_You know what I want from you, Draco." Lucius whispered, pausing slightly to suck at Draco's earlobe."If you cannot satisfy me in the matter, I will need to take my displeasure out on Longbottom."  
__So this was the moment of truth. He could feel his father's attentive gaze upon him, looking for any sign of revealing reaction.  
__The trap had slammed shut.  
__Draco fell silent, at a loss of what to do other than accepting defeat.  
__He had to let it happen. He had to allow his own father to send him over the edge and all the while, he had to keep Neville out of his thoughts, not to make him a part of this terrible moment.  
__Draco gathered all strength he had left to concentrate on making it happening, blocking out and surpressing all emotions he had. But his mind couldn't let go of Neville, no matter how much he tried.  
__It was the only thought he had to keep him sane and he just couldn't let go of it.  
__As his seed finally clung to his father's hand and Draco thought the burning shame itself would cause his death, Lucius pressed him hard into the wall and sent violent thrusts into him, until the growls of satisfaction followed. Draco could feel his father's heavy breathing on his neck, but he was beyond caring anymore and beyond resistance. He leaned his forehead to the wall and cried, wishing the earth would swallow him whole.  
_"_That's my boy." Lucius smiled, kissing him on the cheek._

"Draco, you're crying!"  
"No, I'm not." Draco muttered, yet drying the tears furiously from his eyes.  
Neville sighed and looked at Draco as if he saw right through him, having too much pity in his eyes for Draco to find it comfortable.  
Draco sighed in frustration. Why did the Gryffindors have to make everything so difficult?  
"I don't want to talk about it!  
"I just can't believe you have the _nerve_ to say that, after what you did! And all those 'you need to put it behind you'- lines. Were you sweet-talking me or what?"  
When Draco remained silent, Neville raised an eyebrow.  
"Look, Draco, if the words have gone stuck, let me help you by going first. Not that you've missed anything of course, but as a gesture of good will: I had a knife up my ass!"  
"Stop that!" Draco said, feeling the fury about the abuse on Neville rise again.  
"And then," Neville continued, ignoring Draco, "I almost had my balls cut off by a really dull blade, but not before having my face slammed into a wall a couple of times. And you know what? I was really scared, Draco, because I thought I was going to die and I would never see you again and if you think it's easy for me to say this, you're very, very wrong and then you can go to hell!"  
Draco's anger melted off him again. Neville looked really hurt and Draco could feel it in his own system, as if they were connected with invisible threads. He looked at his feet.  
"I can't tell you." He murmured.  
Again, he was painfully reminded about why he had to end it right there.  
He needed to say something cruel, just like those millions of things he had said to Neville in the past, to sever this tie, to save Neville from disaster. But the words seemed to have gone stuck in his throat.  
_I am not weak, it will pass and…my father taught me to think that!  
_"It's over!"  
With seemingly no control over his own actions, Draco rushed out of the room, leaving a shocked Neville behind.  
"Draco, WAIT!"  
But Draco ran all the way up to the Slytherin toilet and locked himself in there, feeling how the withheld burden of tears became impossible to restraint.  
But back at the room, Neville broke free from his paralysed state and had one ambition in his mind only. This simply wasn't happening!  
They hadn't been through all this just to end it now!  
If Draco, being his world at the present, really wanted to break up, then he was really going to explain himself thoroughly, with nothing left unsaid! He was ready to storm right into the Slytherin dormitory to take the confrontation if necessary!  
And Snape was going to help him do it!


	17. Tea with Mrs Malfoy

I must apologize for the past two months of vacuum, but work kept me tied to the desk for other reasons, blah blah. Anyways, thank you so much for reviewing! It's really nice to know that somebody is reading this, despite the unusual pairing.

Oh, and by the way, don't you worry!  
The story will be finished, 21 chapters are planned in total, so there's five more tasty bits of chocolate to go! I work as a writer and I've learned the hard way to finish my stories!

And **Wyte Chocolate:** A thousand hugs to you for your faithful reviewing! I take a little leap of joy when i see it! I was afraid thatthe old readers had dropped off.

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: ****TEA WITH MRS MALFOY**

_Mother's gonna check out all your  
__Girlfriends for you  
__Mother's gonna make all of your  
__Nightmares come true  
_-Pink Floyd-

Narcissa had hardly seated herself in the couch beside the fireplace before she heard a careful knock on the door. She sighed and sincerely hoped it wasn't her husband. He had truly disintegrated the little patience she had left for him and if he appeared in the doorway right now, she was quite sure she would start throwing porcelain at him. It was probably one of the house elves who had recently served her tea, forgetting something as usual. The elves at Hogwarts were truly below all criticism.  
"Enter!" she commanded, turning to the doorway with an impatient sneer.  
But instead of a servant, stood a red-haired boy, looking so innocent and wrecked all at the same time, she could have believed him to be a martyr stepping right out of muggle-religious fiction.  
And she recognised him almost immediately as Neville Longbottom.  
He looked startled at first at the sight of her, and she instantly realised that he did not recognise her. This was exactly the golden moment she was looking for. At once, she turned her displeased sneer into a friendly smile.  
"Please, come in. Can I help you?"  
Neville, who obviously did not know who she was, looked only confused.  
"Uh, I was looking for my potion's master, professor Snape." He said, unable to take his eyes from her.  
Narcissa rose from the couch without letting the smile fade the tiniest bit.  
"I'm sure he will be here in a little while. Why don't you sit down and have tea with me?" She allowed her eyes to make a special friendly twinkle.  
If Neville had looked confused before, he looked completely lost now.  
"Tea…in here?" His surprise could be read like an open book.  
Narcissa made a little tingling laughter.  
"Don't worry about your professor." She said. "I know what he can be like, but I'll take it on my responsibility and he surely cannot deny us a cup of tea?"  
When Neville stood hesitating, still staring at her in a mix of wonder and something very akin to admiration, Narcissa became serious and frowned with perfectly faked worry and sympathy.  
"Oh dear child, you look absolutely devastated. Has something happened?"  
She moved up to Neville and lay her hand on his shoulder, as if she was a staff member and had done this professionally many times.  
"Well…" Neville began and his lower lip trembled a little as new tears started to cloud his eyes.  
"There, there, it's all right." Narcissa comforted. "Come with me to the couch."  
He followed her as she led him by the hand to sit down, but he also dried his tears on the sleeve very quickly, as if he were ashamed of them. She gave him a handkerchief while pouring up tea to them both.  
"Thank you." He murmured, looking more grateful than he should, as if he was totally unaccustomed to kindness.  
He was handing her useful weapons by the second. It was already clear that she had him in a little box and the chances for him to spill his beans out on the table before Snape arrived were very good indeed.  
"May I askfor your name?" she said innocently.  
"Neville…Longbottom." He said with a shy look on his face.  
The boy was indeed beautiful to behold, in a youthful sort of way, reminding Narcissa vaguely about a cherub she had once seen on a painting from Italy. Her son had good tastes at least when it came to looks.  
"Well, Neville." She said, while leaning back against the worn-out couch with her tea firmly held. "What seems to be the problem?"  
Neville carefully lifted his cup as well, looking down at it as if all the answers were written in the steamy beverage.  
"I don't know if I should tell, really." He seemed in vain for a moment.  
Narcissa tried not to roll her eyes. Did all teenagers start their long monologues that way? But towards Neville, she gave him an encouraging smile and patted his hand carefully.  
"I'm sure you can. I have great experience dealing with problems from boys your age. It will not leave this room." She promised.  
"Well, okay. It's this…person I'm dating, right? And we have really big problems."  
"Oh?" Narcissa heightened an eyebrow. "Is it a boy or a girl? Don't worry, I don't mind either way."  
Neville looked up at her with relief. This would certainly loosen his tounge.  
"Well, it's a boy, now that you ask." He said, a bit apologetically, even blushing a little.  
This was just too good to be true.  
"Please continue." She said in her friendliest voice.  
"We…my boyfriend and I, don't talk very much anymore. Or, we can't solve our problems because something happened and…" He seemed close to his tears again.  
Realising that she had hit the right spot, Narcissa quickly put her teacup down. Then she lifted Neville's from his hands and embraced him tenderly, while making a dark note in the back of her head that she would need to send her black velvet dress to laundry if he was going to cry at it.  
And he did cry, while she stroked his curls soothingly, working out her next tactics. So far, there was nothing but a line of triumphs.  
Of course, little nearly orphan Neville was in great need of a parental guidance and she did the part so perfectly well, judging from Neville's needy eyes.  
When Neville had calmed down a little, she gave him the handkerchief again and allowed him to lean his head against her shoulder while she held her arm safely around his shoulders.  
"Now, why don't we start from the beginning?" she suggested.  
Neville nodded and blew his nose before easing the heavy load.  
"It started with…me and this boy, we're from different houses. And his parents didn't like us to be together so we tried to keep it a secret. But then, they found out anyway, because of a letter I sent him that he forgot to burn and…he blamed himself a lot for that…but you should be able to keep letters at home without being afraid of your own parents, right?"  
"Right." Narcissa frowned indignantly, but Neville was not looking at her.  
"Yes, well, so his father came to school and tricked me into being alone with him in the astronomy tower. He sent me this letter and I thought it was Draco's handwriting…oups!"  
Neville clenched his hand to his mouth, looking up at Narcissa with his eyes wide open.  
"It's all right." She smiled. "As I said, nothing will leave the room." She took his hand very confidently, a trick that always made her victims fall. And Neville was no exception. "Now you must tell me: what happened in the astronomy tower?"  
Neville squirmed uneasily.  
"He beat me up real bad. The father, that is. He had this knife… and then I lay in the hospital for weeks. And Draco was there with me as much as he could and he was really sweet but his father showed up to bring him home and I was so afraid… so afraid he'd die!" Neville gave a little sob.  
Narcissa lifted an eyebrow  
"Why would you think that, Neville? His parents wouldn't want to hurt _him _after all?" Her voice was an inch colder, but Neville didn't notice.  
"Oh, the father would for sure! He had beat his back bloody once and I think it has happened lots before, only, his dad holds it a secret to the school."  
"How?" Narcissa's voice struck a very dangerous, subtle cord.  
"I don't know. By leaving him to Snape I think, while recovering."  
Narcissa felt her face turn to stone.  
"Please, go on."  
"So Draco returned to school, like, twelve hours later and he had to stay in bed for three weeks! His mother was there though, to watch over him, so I couldn't see him at all! Only once, when his mother was away to get her stuff from home I think. And he looked terrible! But I'm afraid that…"  
"What?"  
"Never mind, the point is we tried to meet after it all happened and it was kind of really creepy. We kissed and…Draco is a really good kisser and he's really good at lots of stuff, so I thought, why not, at first."  
Neville's ears went red as he spoke.  
Narcissa frowned again. It was a little too much information there, but on the other hand, it was not a big surprise. Draco was her son, after all. Of course he had to be outstanding in bed.  
"Then", Neville continued, "everything went nightmarish. He forced me to show what had happen in the astronomy tower and, and…then he wanted to comfort me for it and I gave in to it, thinking everything would be put to right. And Draco seemed like he really needed to as well. But he seemed so disgusted about me, that he couldn't… touch me, you know, like…" Neville's tears started to flow again.  
"Why wouldn't he want to touch you?" Narcissa spoke very silently, making a little effort to keep her voice mild. The small suspicion growing in her was not kind to her self-restraint. Her husband was not allowed to touch _anybody _in an intimate way, not even as an act of hostility, without her consent.  
"I'm not sure I can say!" Neville sobbed, but Narcissa put her arms around him so gently and made him feel so safe with her reassuring of her professionalism, that Neville finally gave in to her, his eyes closed as he spoke.  
"You see, Draco's father is a really, really sick man. When I was alone with him, he…he used his knife to stick it up my…ow!"  
Narcissa realised that she had bore her nails into Neville's arm a little too hard.  
"I'm so sorry, dear." She forced herself to say without hissing. "Please, _do_ continue."'  
"So Draco must've been really disgusted about it! We tried to have sex, but he wouldn't touch me like he used to, despite all the nice things he had said. And you know what else was strange?" Neville paused slightly as if he just realised something.  
Narcissa held her breath.  
"He was crying, and I mean, really crying and you know…Draco is the kind of person who never cries or even shows his feelings a lot. And…there was this other thing."  
Narcissa was dead silent, wishing she could have cast a spell to make the information flow quicker.  
"He threw up once, just as we…well. And moments later he was crying, denying that he was! Then everything just ended by him rushing out of the room. And, I'm really, really scared that his father might have…done something. You know, maybe it's just me, at first I thought it was a spell, but…now that you look at it…you're hurting my arm."  
Narcissa removed her hand immediately, a bit mechanically. Both she and Neville had gone white as sheets. Narcissa were already writing a speech to her husband's funeral in her mind, making it sound like she was really sorry he was gone.  
The creaking of the door startled them both, but only Neville jumped a little as Snape entered. Neville rose as if to excuse himself.  
Snape stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, before moving in to close the door behind him. He was clearly on his guard, letting his eyes dart from one to the other and across the room, as if trying to comprehend what was happening in there.  
Narcissa's eyes shot icy spikes at him.  
"Longbottom. I didn't realise you were relieved from your lessons today." Snape said, still meeting Narcissa's cold glare.  
Neville looked at his feet.  
"I came to see you about something, professor." He whispered.  
"I thought you had a class to attend to." Narcissa said, her voice so venomous, that Snape involuntarily caught chills.  
"I came back for extra parchments?" Snape said, hating to hear the defensive tone in his voice. It was his office, damn it!  
Besides, he could tell by the odd scenario that something really sinister took place. And Neville stood way too close to Narcissa.  
"_Mrs Malfoy_, may I ask what is going on?"  
As expected, Neville made a frightened cry and jumped away from Narcissa, the panick building up as he was trapped between Snape in the doorway and Narcissa by the fireside. Narcissa glared unforgiving at Snape.  
Snape sighed. As he suspected.  
Then Narcissa simply rose from the couch and walked up to Snape. When they stood eye to eye, she made a swift move and slapped Snape hard on the cheek, nearly making him loose his footing.

Draco sat beside the toilet for the longest time, unable to make a decision on whether he needed to throw up again or not. It seemed that misery was waiting in line to strike at him.  
He had run out on Neville.  
The one person that he really cared about in the whole world and he had run out on him when they needed each other at most. But he couldn't think about it. If he did, the thoughts started to spin in vicious circles, telling him why he couldn't face Neville and what sort of disaster he might have caused now, invading Neville's thoughts and then leaving him alone with it, unable to help.  
He wanted to run back and try to put everything right, but he had no idea how to do it and above all, he didn't dare. If Neville turned him down now, rightly refusing to put up with anything more, he would die for sure.  
No way out.  
He would have to be more like his father than ever before, but how could he when the mere thought of it repulsed him so much?  
Draco rose and walked over to the taps, facing his own reflection.  
He really looked like a younger version of his father, only now his eyes were red and he bore a miserable expression on his face. But his movements, his outfit, his choice of words, his behaviour and points of view…it all had Lucius' design written over it.  
Draco tried desperately to come up with even one evaluation not originating from his father, but he failed and stared back at himself in the mirror.  
_Who the fuck am I?  
_Even when he was with Neville, it was this gnawing feeling deep inside that told him he was doing something wrong, something forbidden and shameful.  
But at least, with Neville, he had heard this small inner voice speaking for the first time, telling him differently.  
Then he realised he wasn't alone in the toilet.  
Straightening up on reflex, Draco turned to the door with the coldest face he could manage.  
His eyes had to register the sight twice before it sunk in.  
The mudblood Granger stood leaning herself against the entrance, much in the same fashion Draco had done to Neville once, only Granger didn't wear that evil smirk.  
Draco was so upset and shocked, he could hardly speak.  
"What the _fuck _do you think you're doing in here, Granger?"  
She gave him an honest, serious gaze.  
"I wanted to speak to you."  
"Oh, _really_? May I remind you, this is not the lavoratory for girls and secondly, this is a _Slytherin lavoratry_ reserved for people with _pure _blood!"  
But Hermione only heightened an eyebrow at the assault.  
"I thought you would not mind, since you're not into girls anyway." She said with her know-it-all voice. "And _secondly_, this is about Neville."  
"How could you even think I would want to discuss any of this with you, you filthy, disgusting mudblood!" Draco spat in fury.  
He took several steps towards her, hoping she would run for it.  
"Don't be childish.", Hermione frowned, refusing to move an inch. "At least, hear me out when I speak of Neville's security."  
Draco stopped one step away from her and heightened his fist.  
"Speak then." He said, letting a mean gaze pierce her.  
"Neville is not going to have visits from your father again, is he?" Hermione looked defiantly back at him. "Because, judging by what was just unleashed on you both, you should really be more careful than you were today."  
Draco almost lost his breath in anger.  
"I fail to see how you are involved at all, Granger!" he snarled. "And if you don't beat it…" He flinched all of a sudden, as a spot on his left arm seemed to have caught fire.  
The mark. This was completely unlike any pain he had felt in it. This stinging was alive, urging and without doubt calling him to join the Dark lord.  
_This was all I needed.  
_Hermione continued in her calm voice, but held her gaze fixed at Draco's arm, as if she suspected something from Draco's tense expression.  
"I wanted to tell you that you have powerful allies and you would only need to talk to Dumbledore…"  
Draco had a start as she mentioned the principle. Oh, Merlin if he found out about the mark! If there were any grains of hope left at all, then they would be swept away by a forceful wind the moment his loyalties were exposed!  
She continued her sentence, but Draco threw himself out the door without listening to the rest.  
There was more than one reason to panic now.  
He walked away from the Slytherin dormitories, not even sure about where he was heading. He really should get on his broomstick not to be late to the Death eater meeting. But too many thoughts to sort out had him under a nearly paralysing anguish.  
He didn't want to go. His father would probably be there and he really, really should try to find Neville. But some recently spoken words caught him.  
"_Neville is not going to have visits from your father again, is he?"  
_No. He certainly wasn't. With a great force of will Draco hurried to fetch his broomstick

The smack on Snape's face left Neville gaping in shock. Snape quickly gathered himself together and glared loathingly back at the furious Malfoy woman in front of him.  
"I wouldn't do that again, if I were you." He hissed at her with his most dangerous voice.  
There were some things being unforgivable and one of them was embarrassing him in front of his students.  
Mrs Malfoy simply cocked an eyebrow.  
"Oh, you deserve a lot more." She said casually, keeping her cold. "How many times has my husband left Draco to you in any wounded state?"  
To Snape's great annoyance, Neville crossed his arms and stared accusingly at him, morally brought up.  
Snape gave him a warning glance.  
"Get out." He commanded and Neville started to head for the door.  
"Stay!" Narcissa ordered, with an earth-shattering voice.  
Neville froze with his fingers on the handle, his panic rising.  
"It's not my concern or to my knowledge, what you and your husband has agreed upon or not. I took for granted that you were well informed about the matter, observant as you are." Snape answered Narcissa calmly, realising that he could stand there shouting about whether Neville would stay or leave the entire day if he didn't finish the conversation fast.  
Narcissa bit her lip in frustration. He shot at a weak spot, suggesting that she had missed an important issue of her family.  
"You have some nerve" Narcissa said, "accusing me of being a part of this treatment of my son!"  
Now it was Snape's turn to raise an eyebrow.  
"Can you blame me?" he asked. "The capacity of the Malfoy family is well known, as are the methods they prefer to use on any obstacle threathening their empire."  
"Even so" Narcissa said deceptively silky, "it must have occured to you that something was strange when Lucius left him over to you all the time."  
"Not all the time, Mrs Malfoy. Two times would be more accurate. And why shouldn't I take your involvement for granted? We both know that it would have looked more suspicious keeping Draco out of school for the time it would take for him to heal. And until now, the damage was so minimal, it could easily be covered up."  
"That's true." Neville suddenly piped from the door. "Professor Snape even accepted help from Hermione when…"  
"SILENCE!" Snape shouted.  
"GO ON!" Narcissa bellowed. "This is about my son and NOBODY leaves the room until this is sorted out!"  
"That is not for you to decide!" Snape argued.  
At this, Narcissa drew out her wand and Neville made a terrified whimper. Snape's eyes flashed dangerously and his wand was whipped out as well.  
Then they both looked at each other in sudden understanding, as the Dark Mark started to burn on their arms.  
Now both of them looked at Neville.  
"Go!" they said in unison and Neville fled out as fast as he could.

Snape felt a rising concern for the orders about Draco that he had recieved from the order of the Phoenix as they hurried to join their fellow Death eaters. He knew that this meeting would mean initiation for Draco and that meant cutting the string that held him to their side.  
He sighed and held his head.  
Dumbledore would expect him to perform miracles over there that he couldn't do.  
And frankly, he felt like tossing himself out of the highest tower at Hogwarts rather than have another involvement in this enervating matter about Draco and Neville.


	18. Through the fire

Hello again and once more, thank you for the reviews!  
Well, I better get on with the story then, since I left our unlikely little couple in a very big mess...  
But I really must thank you, **Sabrina-Rosalie**, for the nice crown you sent me and for the...essay...about my fic! You just don't know what it means to me, after over a hundred pages of this kinky lovestory, to come home late at night from the cold and find such a nice comfirmation! A thousand and billion hugs to you! At least!  
**Draco Malfoy's love: **When you look up the word 'smart' in a wordbook, there's a picture of a girl. And If t wasn'tfor my female friends, my computer wouldn't obey me,I couldn't have used mytechnical stuff and nobody would have explained to me about the inner meaning of Pythagora's mathematics. Be proud, girl! And I'm so happy you reviewed!;-)

And now...the story. Love to you all!

Redfern

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THROUGH THE FIRE**

_It's a waking world of innocence  
__So grave those first born cries  
__When life begins with needles and pins  
__It ends with swords and knifes  
_-Tears for fears-

Draco found himself arriving at the huge cemetery almost exactly in time with Snape and Narcissa. He was very grateful for it, since he could spot his father among the already gathered death eaters. Everybody wore masks, but the characteristic posture of Lucius was unmistakable.  
As soon as he had landed and put his death eater cloak on, Draco headed directly towards his mother and fortunately she did the same, making sure that Draco was next to her as they took their positions around the dark lord.  
It seemed that Lucius was to stand next to him on the other side, however.  
Draco felt utterly relieved about wearing a mask, not needing to keep a face like stone as his father's gaze turned to him. Draco just held his eyes fixed at the dark lord, trying to shut the rising awkwardness out.  
_I'm Snape, I'll think like Snape, I'm cold, my thoughts are concealed, I can do this…  
_As the dark lord's first words were spoken, all eyes were directed towards the speaker and not even a breath was heard. It was a speech about a magnificent trap laid for Potter and several death eaters were chosen to attend to the glorious task of wiping the-boy-who-lived out forever.  
It was really hard to feel sorry for Potter at this moment.  
_You think about this the next time you dare to touch Neville's lips, you…  
_Then he heard his own name mentioned and everybody stared at him.  
"Young Malfoy, approach me." The dark lord made a slight gesture with his hand, as to urge Draco on.  
Draco did as he had learnt immediately. He walked forward with his head held high and stopped only a step away from the dark lord, where he fell to his knees and bowed his head until his brow touched the ground. Then he simply remained crouching on one knee with eyes lowered, waiting for instructions.  
"This is a most important meeting for you, Draco Malfoy, as the instructions you are about to recieve will prove if your loyalty to me is strong enough."  
Draco shuddered involuntarily as the Dark lord laid his cold, reptile hand upon Draco's head.  
"There is an enemy to the cause that I have marked out, a procecutor whom has caused much grieve for our brothers and sisters. His name is Howard Cuddleblade and you will kill him for me, bringing back his wand as a trophy. You may rise."  
Draco rose very slowly, playing the part of Snape so much, he seemed to be in perfect control. He took two steps back and bowed very deeply.  
"I hear and obey, my lord."  
Even his voice was a stunning imitation of Snape's as he spoke, before heading back to his designated place.  
Draco could feel Lucius proud gaze upon him, but he quickly cut off all emotional reactions to it, as he had done before the Dark lord.  
Snape, who was placed beside the Dark lord, also recieved instructions. They were whispered to him and Snape only nodded and bowed in response.  
A few more orders were handed out before it was time to disolve the meeting.  
Draco's father was among the death eaters chosen for the Potter extinction. Draco tried to keep as far away as possible from him, but before he could reach his broomstick, Lucius had closed in and gripped his shoulder from behind. Draco turned around very slowly, cursing himself for taking the mask off too early.  
Lucius smiled at him, perfectly official in his approach. Only his eyes glinted of something maliciously sadistic and the hand wouldn't leave Draco's shoulder.  
It was a huge effort to stand still and keep the look of indifference when the coldsweat already trickled along his spine.  
"Behave now, Draco." Lucius whispered. "I shall not need to remind you to again, shall I?"  
The hand left his shoulder and took hold of his chin instead, the cold eyes seizing him up. Draco feared he would lose it any moment and try to kill his father or simply take off running, but to his relief, Narcissa suddenly appeared beside Lucius.  
She ignored her husband completely and moved in front of him, so that the contact between Lucius and Draco was forced to break. Then she laid her cool hands on Draco's cheeks and kissed him on the forehead, as was her costume.  
"The best of luck to you, my son." She whispered softly, before turning to Lucius and demanding his attention on a private discussion.  
Draco took a deep breath and turned to his broomstick. He jumped in fright as Snape unexpectantly stood beside it.  
"I will be with you to confirm you have carried out the orders." Snape simply said, mounting his own broomstick.  
Not until he had kicked off from the ground, following Snape's lead, Draco started to realise what he had just been asked to do.

By the time it took to reach Knockturn alley, it had become dark outside. Not a word had passed between them on the journey and it suited Draco just fine. He was in no mood to speak, feeling only rising anguish concerning the mission.  
Once on the ground, things proceeded way too quickly.  
Snape hid their broomsticks inside _Borgin & Burkes_, the dark arts wizard store that Draco had visited with his father so many times. The owner was more than happy to oblige, not asking even one tiny question.  
"Mr Cuddleblade lives on the top floor of this tavern across the street." Snape whispered, as they went into a private room behind the counter, shutting the door behind them. Snape turned to face Draco as he continued to give the information, watching every change of expression in Draco's face very carefully.  
Draco swallowed and clenched his teeth together to keep his face like stone.  
"He has grown quite paranoid over the years and has chosen to live close to crowds, as to prevent his enemies from attempting assassinations. His small apartment his heavily warded, but I shall deal with that and we will apparate to it and wait for him there. Once he enters through the door, you will have to act very quickly. Do you understand?"  
Draco's face remained fixed, but he had turned dead white as Snape spoke.  
He chose to only nod for an answer.  
Snape looked at him even more intensely.  
"I trust you have learned the unforgivable curses?"  
Again, Draco nodded. But some anxious words poured out, revealing his true emotional state.  
"Sir, I've only practised the…the _avada kedavra_ upon incects and very, very small animals before. I'm not sure it will do…"  
"It will." Snape cut him off. "The size of the life is of little matter, once you've gained knowledge about the spell. That is the vicious simplicity of it."  
"I see." Draco's voice was but a whisper and he had to gain all his strength to keep himself together.  
It was all like some kind of wicked nightmare and he wished he would wake any moment in a secluded room at Hogwarts, feeling Neville's warm, dazed body pressed to his, in a perfect world where none of their tragedies had ever taken place.  
But he had to wipe it out now. He had to remain stone cold inside, shutting everything out, just like that night in the basement. He had to be like Snape, indifferent and unmoved no matter what.  
Snape had them apparating into the dark room above the tavern in an instant, making sure they were well hidden from view for anybody stepping in through the front door. Draco was dodging behind the bed, his heart beating too fast and his fingers cold as icicles, as they gripped the wand.  
The small room was too personally designed to make the situation endureable. Moving photographs of waving family and friends stood on the mantelpiece, aging tickets to wizard concerts were enclosed in frames and colourful, homemade socks with strange and funny figures knitted on them lay thrown about the room.  
_And Neville asked me if I would kill anyone if they told me to and I said, only if it was Lucius and now I'm about to let him down again, now there will be no way back, oh Neville…  
_The dreaded steps outside the door were heard and a key struggled in the lock, as a soft whistling tune reached through the door.  
Draco could hear his victim enter and murmur a spell to light the fireplace. Then a clattering sound was heard, meaning that Mr Cuddleblade had put his wand down on the bedtable.  
The joyful whistling continued as Snape gestured to Draco from behind the gigantic wardrobe and without thinking, Draco threw himself up and flicked his wand.  
A loud bang was heard and within seconds Cuddleblade was ensnared by tightfitting ropes from head to toe, his surprised cry muffled by a magical gag as well. He fell to the floor with an omnious thud and Draco could see Snape nod in approval.  
Now was the time.  
His victim was unable to escape and Draco automatically took the position he had done so many times before casting a spell.  
He was supposed to throw his wand forth now and flick it, but a strange paralysation held him fixed. He could see Cuddleblade gazing up at him, his horrorstruck eyes pleading silently, desperatly, as he struggled against his ropes.  
_The moment I do it, I've lost Neville.  
_But was that really all preventing him? The surge of thriumph and power that he had imagined years ago he would feel, when preparing for this, just wouldn't come. It was sickening, seeing tears emerge in Cuddleblades eyes, hearing the whimpers of fear and knowing that the one stuck in the worst trap was himself.  
_But if I don't, father will know and he might go for Neville and I'll be in such a mess…And the dark lord might find out about Neville.  
_Draco gripped his wand so hard his hand was shaking, and then the wand was thrown forth.  
"_Avada Kedavra!"  
_A flash of green light repainted the room and as it vanished in the blink of an eye, Cuddleblade lay unmoving, the fearful expression frozen on his face.  
Dead.  
Draco felt cold all over. But the wand had shot out of his hand before he could wave it and he hadn't said a word.  
Instead, Snape stood holding two wands, Draco's still giving off tiny emerald sparks. Without hesitation, Snape walked up to the bedside table and took Cuddleblade's wand. Then he walked straight up to Draco, who was too shocked to get a word out.  
Draco thought Snape looked paler than ever and had a strange, resolute expression on his face. He didn't dare to meet his teacher's gaze.  
"Here!" Snape hissed very harshly and handed Draco his own wand along with Cuddleblade's. Then he simply grabbed hold of Draco and apparated them both back to _Borgin & Burkes_.

The flight back to the Dark Lord was marked by a heavy silence brought on by both of them. Draco was mentally tip-toing around Snape, who seemed to be on the verge of explosion any second. No words were needed though, to explain how vital the act that was to take place in front of the Dark lord would be.  
Draco had a very exhausting conflict in his head. One part of him experienced blessed relief, the other was in dread over the huge risk they both had been taking. But not the least, he would never look upon Snape the same way again. As far as Draco was concerned, Snape had practically saved his life.  
The meeting with the Dark lord was so brilliantly staged, that Draco thought they both deserved an award for it. The trophy was handed over with a triumphant smile and the test on Draco's wand proved that he had commited the murder, which Snape confirmed. Draco recieved his praises, strained to the limit mentally, since he held the occlumency highly active.  
As they left for Hogwarts again, the shock started to go out through the system and Snape led Draco in to the dungeons as soon as they had landed.  
It seemed as if they sat in Snape's couch for the longest time, both of them simply staring into the fire without saying a word. Then headmaster Umbridge's head suddenly appeared in the flames, a malicoious smile playing across her toadish face.  
"Ah, Severus, such a relief to find you in!" she chirped, her girlish voice almost striking false cords. "I have to ask you up to my office at once. I hope you're not too busy?"  
"Not at all. Young Malfoy are about to finish his detention." Snape muttered and rose from the couch.  
"Excellent!" she replied and the face vanished mercifully.  
For the first time since they had been in Cuddleblade's room, Snape turned and spoke to Draco.  
"Stay here until I come back. No sneaking out to cause greater damage than you already have." Snape's voice was more weary than accusing, but Draco cowered under it.  
"Yes, professor."  
Snape headed for the door, but before he reached it, Draco finished his sentence in a very small voice.  
"Thank you."  
Snape turned around with a contemptous sneer, his eyes flashing.  
"Don't decieve yourself! I bought you time and that's all. Use it well or it will all be ending up twice as bad the next time."  
Without further explanations Snape left the room and Draco stared after him in wonder.  
Use it well? What was he supposed to do? Surely Snape couldn't mean he should turn against the Dark lord?  
One thing Draco knew for sure, though. He was dead exhausted and within minutes, he had curled up against the armchair cushion and drifted off to a comfortable slumber.

He woke with a start, as a hand was laid on his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and looked up at Snape's pale, tired face.  
"Dumbledore wants to see you in his office. Now."  
"Okay." Draco murmured, working himself up to a sitting position. A moment later it struck him.  
"Dumbledore?" Draco echoed.  
Snape made a rare little smirk.  
"Off you go."

Draco arrived to Dumbledore's office with the breath stuck in his throat. He had been running most of the way, feeling as if he was still dreaming. It was daylight outside, so he must have slept for quite a while.  
Once he had climbed the stairs and stepped into the familiar headmaster's office, a strange but welcome sight met him.  
Dumbledore was by his desk as usual, giving him a small smile in welcome. He looked a bit concerned, though.  
On the left was McGonagall and in one of the chairs in front of the desk sat Neville, his nose swollen and shining in purple colours.  
Neville's and Draco's eyes met for a second. Neville looked completely bewildered, his lively eyes suspended between longing, concern and fear all at the same time.  
"Please, take a seat." Dumbledore said, gesturing to the chair beside Neville.  
Draco approached the desk slowly, not knowing what to make of anything.  
As soon as he had sunken into the chair, Dumbledore addressed him again.  
"I am once more the Headmaster of Hogwarts." He explained, his eyes twinkling. "We have a lot of matters to deal with, putting the school into order again. Now, there is unfortunately some bad news I am obliged to deliver."  
Draco kept looking at him, his face fixing itself like stone to brace against an overactive imagination.  
"Your father has been convicted for crimes against the wizard laws and is now imprisoned at Azkaban. If you would like to visit him, I would of course give you leave…"  
Draco's eyes were wide open and he registered a guilty-looking Neville in the corner of his eye. Finally, Draco chose to nod slowly.  
"I see." He forced himself to say. "No visiting permissions will be necessary."  
Dumbledore watched him carefully behind the half moon spectacles, before letting an understanding show in a warm smile, illustrating Draco's inner total relief.  
"Well then." Dumbledore continued, "Perhaps we could turn to the next subject. I trust Mr Longbottom has something to tell you. If you would please follow Professor McGonagall into this room…"  
Dumbledore gestured towards a door behind his desk and Draco followed with Neville, as if he was in a strange daydream.

The door shut behind them and they were alone, just as Draco had only dreamed would be possible a day ago.  
They stood there in complete silence, both of them looking down at their shoes. Neville was the first to raise his head.  
"I was at the ministry where your father was." He whispered. "We battled him…me and Harry and the others…I'm sorry."  
Draco looked up at Neville in disbelief.  
"What did you say?"  
Neville made a nervous sigh.  
"I said that I was in the ministry…"  
"Not that." Draco shook his head slowly. "Did you just say that you were sorry?"  
"I meant for you." Neville's words stumbled over each other. "It's your family after all and maybe I should have…talked to you…I don't know, everything happened so fast…"  
His voice trailed off as Draco slowly approached him and pulled him into a warm embrace, careful not to lay any hands on the many bruises covering the Gryffindor.  
Not unexpectantly, Neville's tears started to spill and he sobbed into Draco's shoulder. But Draco merely closed his eyes and realised that this small moment probably was the best he ever had in his entire life.  
Neville's tears faded fast enough and he smiled apologetically at Draco while drying his eyes and nose with his sleeve.  
"Sorry." Neville murmured. "I know it's stupid…"  
Draco remembered that he still had his death eater hood folded in his pocket and pulled it out without unfolding it.  
"Here." Draco said and handed Neville the death eater hood as if it was a handkerchief.  
Neville accepted it and without knowing what it was, he blew his nose loudly into it a couple of times.  
Draco couldn't help smirking at the sight. While Neville cleaned himself with the dark hood, Draco started to unbutton Neville's pants, leaning him against the back of an armchair.  
"That's just like you, having a black handkerchief…what are you doing?" Neville gripped the top of the armchair and dropped the hood down to the seat behind him.  
"I'm just helping you to relax." Draco said in a low and seductive voice. Neville's eyes grew wide and Draco just knew what was coming. In fact, it added fuel to his fire.  
"We can't do this in here! We're…"  
"…In Dumbledore's office?"  
Neville gave out a small moan as Draco stroked his hand over the Gryffindor's sex. Draco noted with satisfaction that it reacted to his touch, twitching slightly under his fingers.  
"Draco!" Neville whispered reproachingly. But he did not do anything to prevent the hand from continuing to stroke him.  
Draco smiled and moved his mouth carefully against Neville's. When their lips touched, Neville let out a shaky sigh and Draco broke the kiss and moved his mouth close to Neville's ear.  
"Don't move your hands. Keep them on the chair."  
Then there was a deep kiss and Draco's hand slid past Neville's underpants, continuing to work the hardening organ. Neville went characteristically red, gasping and tossing his head back as Draco entered him with a finger.  
"Draco…! Oh…Draco!" Neville's words came out as cut off breaths, revealing his recent decency to be little more than show-off.  
Despite his cool composture, Draco's desire was throwing itself forward like a beast in frenzy. He was no less heated than Neville and seeing his lover squirm with pleasure from his touch had him ready to go off in his pants any second unless he visualized naked house-elfs to hold back.  
Neville was very hard now, panting and whimpering and making delirious sounds as Draco's hand worked him all the more fierce. Draco had released part of his self restraint, biting and sucking at Neville's soft lip and ears as if he intended to eat him alive.  
"Come on, Nevvy." Draco whispered in something being only a little more than a growl. "Come for me. Come for me now!"  
And the command was heard. A long extactic moan and Neville pressed his groin desperately into Draco's hand, coming with such intensity that he seemed unable to keep standing on his own accord. The hot seed kept pulsating out in a prolounged, shivering moment and Draco pressed his sex against Neville's thigh, before almost aggressively directing Neville's head down to his open pants. The moment Neville's lips and tounge tensed over his organ, Draco couldn't have stopped himself even if he had tried. He shot into Neville with an intensity no smaller than his lover's and through the dizziness, he noted that Neville kept sucking and licking, readily swallowing the manifestation of the burning craving.  
Draco thought he would pass out from the tensions relieving themselves and Neville seemed to share his condition. Together they sank down to the floor, Draco winding his arms around Neville as they leaned against the armchair. They showered each other with eager kisses before Neville finally rested his damp forehead against Draco's neck, sneaking a hand in to caress Draco's chest. As for Draco, he closed his eyes and laid a possessive hand on the back of Neville's head, making sure their bodies stayed close. They were both still breathing unevenly, but a smirk spread across Draco's face when he heard Neville's serious voice.  
"Do you think Dumbledore has left? His desk looked kind of comfy."


	19. Miscalculations

Greetings to you all and thank you for revieiwing!  
I feel a need to answer**Desiree K Troy **who is areally a faithful reviewer and reader: Well, some of my errors are by mistake, due to writing late at night and some of them are on purpose. For instance: The pen/quill thing was a pure mistake and the placing of Cho and Lee Jordan in the same year as Harry was deliberate, only because I thought it more fun. I have read the Potter chronicles - I promise!- and I've even forced my boyfriend to travel with me to London the 16th July to fetch my copy of _The Half-blood Prince _there.  
As for the language that sometimes fail, I blame my Swedish descent and, as you guessed, a sometimes lazy attitude to correct the chapters before uploading them. Well, I hope I answered your questions. I'm flattered that you like my stories and please keep reviewing!

After this chapter there will be two more and then it's complete. But for now, let's see what sort of trouble we have left our young sinners in this time...  
I hope you'll enjoy it!

**CHAPTER NINETEEN: MISCALCULATIONS**

_How does a vision of Heaven  
Become a living Hell?  
_-H Jones-

As the summer holiday closed in, the school almost vibrated with nervous energy from the leaking frustrations about exams and grades. Every student was buzzing around the school, preparing for well deserved rest and very slowly, the breathing holes started to emerge.  
The spring green lawn outside Hogwarts, with its many thick-leafed trees and colourful flowers, was a very popular chill out zone.  
Draco had settled on relaxing far earlier than normal.  
After all, his father wouldn't be there to see his grades, which he trusted to be good enough anyway, and he could do with some serious vacation after everything he had gone through this year. And this day was the last one in Hogwarts, since they all left for the summer the following morning.  
So, whistling a happy tune, he patrolled the lawn with the ever-loyal Crabbe and Goyle as his support and made sure to squeeze every drop of terror he could from his prefect title before going home.  
Potter, Granger, Weasley and Neville were seated under a tree, having its leafy branches shadowing them from the burning sun only a stone's throw away. Draco still couldn't handle it very well, seeing Potter too close to Neville.  
But on the other hand, Draco and his Gryffindor lover had been using the toilets a lot to confirm their mutual desire, so maybe he could just do with keeping a watchful eye on them. They had even planned some secret meetings in London during the summer, which would be easy for Neville, since he would be living there in a strange house once belonging to Draco's mother's old family. Neville had been unwilling to tell him about it further, murmuring something about a promise he had to keep, but Draco counted on himself to trick it out of him later on. So Neville had confirmed that he was still serious, which meant that everything was in order.  
Or maybe not.  
A very serious air was hanging over the Gryffindor quartet and suddenly, Neville snuck his arm around Potter's shoulders, talking so close to Potter's ear that he could easily stick his tongue into it if desired.  
The logical thread in Draco's brain tensed and threatened to snap.  
Right. It was probably about the Sirius Incident. Neville had informed him about it. Potter had a criminal mass-murderer for a godfather who had been killed in the ministry fight. Neville was very likely consoling Potter about it.  
It was plain logic. Nothing to worry about at all.  
Then why was he striding across the lawn in their direction, forcing Crabbe and Goyle to break into half running?  
Never mind. He needed to see Neville about something anyway.  
Silence struck the four Gryffindors the moment Draco arrived. But the faces he received were quite mixed.  
Potter glared at him darkly, full of suspicion. Granger looked worried and watchful at once, touching Ron's hand that had turned into a slight shade of red like the rest of him and Neville had this slight blush and dreamy, expectant eyes.  
"What do you think you're doing here?" Harry said in a low, tensed voice.  
Draco smirked at him, ready to fire off.  
"Would you like to sit down?"  
Everybody had a start at Hermione's suggestion. Ron was staring back and forth at Draco and Hermione, before fixing his eyes on Draco with his characteristic sick face.  
Draco forced a horrible reply back down his throat, determined not to look too bad in front of Neville and settled for the censored answer.  
"I don't think so, Granger. You see, I pick my company with a little more taste."  
Neville frowned. Not good.  
And even worse was that Potter flew up from the grass, drawing out his wand.  
"If you're going to walk away in one piece, you better do it now!"  
Draco drew out his own wand, staring coldly into Harry's burning eyes.  
"So, you're that eager for detentions?"  
"Could you just STOP?" Neville shouted and Draco took the opportunity to execute his business.  
"Detention, Longbottom." Draco drawled, handing his stunned lover a rolled parchment.  
Neville gaped at the parchment in time with his friends.  
"WHAT? But I didn't…"  
Draco smiled maliciously.  
"Are you sticking up against a prefect, Longbottom?"  
Neville's blushed wonderfully.  
"No, but…"  
"I really hope not, or I would need to do something about it." Draco answered with a mean glint in his eyes.  
Hermione looked very thoughtful, but Harry and Ron were now both standing with wands raised at Draco.  
"If that's all, then beat it!" Harry warned.  
Draco's smile only deepened, but he turned around very briskly and waved a hand to Crabbe and Goyle, who followed like two obedient pets.  
After all, his plan had been set in motion.

Neville sighed heavily as he dragged his feet along the corridor to the dreaded detention. He couldn't believe that professor Treelawney had actually thought him rude and inattentive. True, he had been gazing with dim eyes through the clouded air rather than into his crystal ball and he had actually carved a little heart into the table with the letters 'D' and 'N' in it. But he never thought Treelawney would have noticed it, completely occupied with casting heart-stopping dark prophecies over Harry.  
He climbed the stairs slowly, knowing that he was a little too early. But he really wanted this embarrassing situation to be over as soon as possible.  
Knocking weakly without being answered, Neville carefully entered the room and closed the door quietly enough for an assassin to envy him.  
"P-professor Treelawney?" He called, with a small, shaky voice. He shot a quick glance back at the door, still jumpy since his moment of terror with Lucius in the astronomy tower. No answer came, and very carefully, Neville started to make his way through the velvet-draped room.  
"Professor, it's me, Neville? I'm sorry about my behaviour, walking right in like this." He looked around anxiously.  
"If I'm too early, I could step outside and wait. I don't usually do like this…"  
"Don't worry. You're right on time."  
Neville spun around so quickly, he almost lost his footing. Then he drew a deep breath in relief.  
Draco was standing in front of a tall window, facing him with a smirk.  
"You…!" Neville began, but Draco lifted his finger to his lips, motioning to Neville for silence.  
Then Draco resolutely walked up to Neville and grabbed both his upper arms, drawing him in violently for a very intimate kiss. Neville answered it passionately, hardly breaking it when Draco drew his wand out to lock the door and put a silencing spell over the room.  
"No detention, I knew it!" Neville gasped.  
"What are you talking about?" Draco answered with a reproaching edge in his voice, clenching Neville's arms a little harder. "True enough, Treelawney has left for her vacation, but your behaviour towards a prefect still cannot go unpunished!"  
"Draco…!" Neville murmured, feeling a jolt in his stomach along with a burning heat of embarrassment in his face.  
But Draco sternly dragged him up a small staircase in the room, to a corner covered with velvet cushions and candles burning attached to the cold stone wall. Neville didn't resist too much, but he felt so nervous, he didn't know what to do with his hands and feet. Draco's words awoke such a deep arousal in him that he was already dizzy from the pleasure.  
It turned out he wouldn't need to worry about his hands at all. Draco pushed him down to the pillows, firm and gentle at the same time, and started to tie Neville's wrists together with a thin rope.  
Neville looked down at his hands, not knowing where else to look. He was already hard, taking unexpectedly much pleasure from their little game and Draco made him feel like a virgin every time a new perverted meeting was in store.  
"Be still!" Draco whispered with a dangerous authority, as he straddled Neville and put the tied hands up against the wall. Neville felt his wrists fastened to one of the candleholders, which positioned him leaning back against the wall, still sitting on the cushions with Draco placed on his thighs. Draco smiled at him for a second, stroking his hand down the Gryffindor's chest and stomach, all the way down to the strained pants, where he pressured it slightly. Neville couldn't help making a pining sound and Draco rose a little, only to unbuckle Neville's pants and part his legs. Then Draco pressed himself close to Neville, grasping his chin and kissing him hungrily while letting his hand crawl under Neville's underwear, teasing the craving sex.  
Neville moaned in desperation, hoping that Draco would finish it off fast this time, but Draco seemed to work way too slow and calculated, suddenly breaking their feverish kisses to fix their gazes together.  
"So, Mr Longbottom." He whispered, with triumph worthy of Snape catching a student red-handed. "You'll regret your nosiness very dearly."  
"But…" Neville breathed, his thoughts upside down due to Draco's strokes. "I didn't, I never…"  
"No?"  
Draco frowned and then he lifted an eyebrow while removing Neville's shirt. He pinched Neville's pink little nipple lightly, having tortured sighs and moans in response.  
"You still have no regret?"  
The fingers on Neville's nipple hardened their grip, slowly making the pressure agonizingly painful.  
"Ow!" Neville cried, writhing under Draco's touch. Draco smirked sadistically and bent forward to suck hard on Neville's throat. The warm wetness at such a sensitive spot nearly had Neville coming, even though Draco had ceased his stroking. The roughness of the kiss at the neck only shot warm streams through his system and the tears that started to gather in his eyes from the painful treatment was mostly out of frustration for not getting to reach the ecstatic heights of the climax.  
Draco drew back from his throat slightly, licking inside his ears until Neville lost control and tossed his head from left to right, trying to escape the overload of sensation.  
"I think" Draco whispered, "that as a prefect I have no choice but to have you…disciplined…into a proper behaviour."  
Neville let out a miserable groan.  
"Please…please Draco, I can't, I can't…"  
Draco smirked again, looking thoroughly evil and immaculately sexy.  
"Don't you dare to come without my command."  
Then he simply removed himself from Neville and unhooked the hands from the wall. With his wrists still tied together, Neville was made to kneel bended over, facing the wall with his buttocks exposed to Draco and his elbows supporting him on the dark red cushions.  
Draco had gotten to his feet and Neville heard a sound as if a windy draught had whiffed past them. Then he felt it.  
_SMACK.  
_"OW!"  
A stinging pain had struck one of his buttocks, very precise and pointed. Neville dared to cast a quick glance back at Draco and saw him standing with a horsewhip in his hands, beaming with irresistible authority.  
"Keep your eyes on the wall!"  
A new lash was aimed at both his buttocks, making him cry out against his will. Then another one followed. His skin was burning already, giddy streams shot through his stomach and his sex was throbbing and jerking, wishing to do what it was not allowed to.  
"Are you going to behave?"  
"Yes, Yes, oh _please_…!"  
"And you'll do exactly as told?"  
"Yes!"  
Neville was certain that this would mean the conclusion, that Draco would take him then and let him jerk off in his hands. But Draco didn't seem to move.  
"Good." He heard Draco's heated voice say, filled with satisfaction. "Then remain in your position. I think I wish to see your backsides shine to match the pillows."  
Neville started to count backwards not to lose the little grip he had left over himself and lash after burning lash was marking him, sending him into throws of dark, unbearable ecstasy. The tears were flowing from his face as he squirmed and cried out from the pain and still…still the fearful sound of the whip almost made his seed spill.  
A cool hand touching his buttocks made him wince and gasp from the soreness and gravity seemed to work again. But just barely.  
Strong hands was pushing him over so that he rested on his back suddenly, giving him a start as the buttocks made contact with the cushions below them.  
"That's it, my beautiful little Gryffindor." Draco whispered close to his ear, leaning over him with predatory grace. The smoothness of Draco's robes over his naked skin was bliss, as was the hands that now caressed him all over, taking turns to unfasten the Slytherin robes.  
As soon as Draco's pants were open, Neville's wrists were forced down on the pillows over his head, and Draco started to push his hard organ into him while driving Neville's knees wider apart. Neville winded his legs around Draco's back, moaning and gasping with silent pleas.  
"Yes, oh, yes, oh, yes…!"  
Draco bent down to kiss him with a ravenous force, like a starving wolf. Neville opened up for him, feeling his entire being yield to the body entering his intimate places and fell into the hard rhythm of the sex riding him.  
The pain was not pain anymore. The tears was manifestations of soul deep affection and as Draco moved his hand to Neville's sex, working it the way Neville could never resist, Neville lifted his back up in an arch to meet Draco's every move, words spilling out of him in a desperate yearning.  
"Please, please let me…oh…tell me to…"  
Draco stopped for a moment, panting with his forehead damp and face slightly blushed.  
"Tell you to do what, Neville?" He asked viciously, his voice drunk from the building climax.  
"Tell me to…to come…please!" Neville begged, throwing all dignity and resentment away.  
"You want to come?"  
Draco regained his tight-gripped strokes at Neville's tortured organ and pierced him with an intense gaze. Neville almost screamed.  
"YES, PLEASE!"  
"Then you have to say my name." Draco ordered. "Say my name then, as you come, Neville!"  
Neville moaned and screamed out loud as he finally had his reward, chanting Draco's name in his rapturous fits of pleasure.  
Draco came inside him at the same time, pushing into him quite harshly. It seemed to take them longer than usual to step down from the delirious state, but finally Draco laid over Neville, gasping as he untied the knots around the Gryffindor's wrists.  
Neville moved his arms to stroke Draco very intensely all over and started to remove the rest of his lover's clothes.  
Draco allowed it and even helped him until their skin contact had no interruptions. The kisses and strokes were eager for a good while, before they both collapsed in each other's arms.  
Neville let sleep drift over him with Draco spooning him tightly from behind, knowing one thing for certain.  
Something had healed in both of them with the knowledge that Draco's father was gone from the picture and now Neville intended to fight.  
He was going to fight to keep Draco, fight to remove all the remaining walls between them and if he-who–must-not-be-named…Voldemort, damn it!...was going to stand in the way, he felt truly sorry for the dark lord!  
The Hogwarts express took them all more or less in one piece to London. Draco had a horrible incident on the train though, involving Potter and his creepy friends. The Gryffindor Scarface Hero had been taunting him about Lucius and even though Draco would have delighted in taunting his father along with them, there were still hard principles about pride and family tradition in his veins. Trying to launch an attack against Potter had proven to be a fatal mistake, though. Sneaking up behind him with Crabbe and Goyle only had them outnumbered within seconds and turned into sluglike creatures in school uniforms. Fortunately, the mudblood Hermione had taken pity upon them and given them back their original shapes. But Draco still found it hard having to explain to his mother why his robes were all slimy and moist.  
Neville had been there too and Draco struggled hard with the thought of being humiliated in front of this particular person. But as the train slided into place at platform 9 ¾, Neville walked past Draco, touching his hand in a reassuring gesture and flashing a warm gaze at him meaning that everything was all right.  
Narcissa was waiting at the station as he arrived, her moonbright hair in a neat braid down her back. She stood rigid and proud like a queen, ignoring all the whispering and pointing around her. Her husband's imprisonment may have caused a major setback for the Malfoy family's reputation, but Narcissa seemed set on not allowing Lucius to stain her own name with even one more spot.  
As Draco approached her, she held out her arms with a beautiful smile, like a royalty welcoming an important guest to her kingdom.  
Draco embraced her with utter relief.  
"My dear son." She whispered, before frowning and eyening his robes. "What on earth…"  
"Oh, it's nothing mother!" Draco tried with his most charming smile.  
"Nonsense! What have you been doing, Draco?" She eyed his robes with dismay, but Draco only shrugged and kept smiling.  
Finally, Narcissa sighed and changed the subject, obviously regrouping for later enquiries about the events on the train.  
"You need to change clothes quickly once we're home." She said as they walked through the crowds in the station.  
Draco was listening with half an ear, glancing at the crowd where Neville stood. Several freaky-looking strangers were there to pick him up and Potter stood with them a while too before disappearing into the muggle world.  
Neville's curls seemed to catch fire in the sunlight, sparkling in copper-like threads and for an instant he turned to Draco and smiled, giving him a longing glance that resulted in a twitch in Draco's pants.  
"…then we will arrive around six o clock. DRACO?"  
Draco shot his gaze back to meet his mother's impatient expression.  
"I'm sorry mother. Where are we going tonight?"  
"Really, Draco! I just told you. The Dark lord wishes to train you for your father's position, since the massive arrests upon his followers will cripple the cause somewhat. Although, I doubt that they will be held in Azkaban for long, judging by the Dementors choices to…what's the matter?"  
Draco had slowed his steps as a chill started to spread from his stomach into every vein in his body. He wasn't even aware that he had stopped walking.  
"Draco, you're acting very strange."  
With greater difficulty than Narcissa would ever know, Draco got hold of himself and continued to walk with his face in a practical mask of arrogance and boredom, to match his mother.  
"Oh." He said, his voice levelling with his formality perfectly.  
Narcissa continued to fill him in, having a practical silencing spell around them. Only minutes later, it was plain that Lucius was already appealing in court with a good chance of winning and that Draco would need to spend the summer mostly away from home, training with experienced death eaters.  
The war was on their doorstep and all the way back to Wiltshire, Draco was occupied with dreading the consequences this would have for him and Neville.


	20. Heat

Hello again!

First I must send a thousand kisses to **Berylia-Chrystalia **for sending me a shower of wonderful reviews. You see, I did the newbie mistake and published the first ten chapters of this story within a couple of days, and thereby prevented any reader to react on each chapter. So it was very welcome and I nearly fell of my chair when I saw ELEVEN new reviews waiting to be read!

And all my compliments to **Desiree K Troy **once again for staying a faithful reader and for caring about my story (and my sometimes faltering language.) Lots of hugs.

So here's for you and to all those still following the story (Yes, I know there's still a lot of you reading, more than I could even dream of, since shows how many 'hits' you get on one chapter) and I'm delighted that you've stayed with me through a year on this one. This is the chapter preceding the final one, so please let me know what you think about it and may your summer be crowded with ice creams and sunny days.

Love redfern

**CHAPTER TWENTY: HEAT**

_You give me fever  
__Fever in the morning,  
fever all through the night  
__Fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight  
Fever, I'm on fire__  
__What a lovely way to burn  
_**-Elvis-**

The summer turned out to be one of the hottest in ten years. London was practically steaming as Draco made his way through the rush hour crowd of Diagon Alley. His forehead was damp from the run he had been forced to make. This was his one chance of meeting Neville during the summer and he wasn't going to waste it!  
The floo powder he had used had left dirt on his robes and in his face. He tried to wipe it off with great annoyance, while turning into Knockturn alley.  
Even if he was under cover with a convenient Polyjuice potion, he still didn't fancy the idea of being seen like a slob on the streets of London.  
Finally he had reached the shady small street where the Inn named _Dragon's Den _layed and he stopped for a second to catch his breath before entering.  
His muscles ached due to the extremely hard training he had been forced to go through all summer.  
Well, he wasn't going to look like a wimp in front of Neville, that much was for sure!  
He straightened up and walked through the door, almost forgetting to tune down his aristocratic gestures.  
"Cauldwell." He said to the dodgy receptionist, who started an unengaged search for his key in an old shoebox behind the counter.  
Draco made an effort not to drum his fingers demandingly on the desk. After all, the staff had no idea who he was.  
Finally the key was handed over and Draco ran up the stairs to his room. There was no need for the usual dignity anyway in disguise.  
He locked the door behind him once he was in and instantly placed himself in front of a mirror.  
He had really reached privacy in the last moment!  
His hair was starting to change into a brighter colour and his pale skin was showing through the burned skin. Finally, the transformation was complete and Draco looked like his own self again.  
He sighed and dived into the bed on his back, closing his eyes to listen to the sounds outside on the street.  
Neville would be there any minute and Draco wanted to look as relaxed as possible. It was too much tearing on his nerves as it was and there was no use in getting Neville all worked up about it.  
Deep inside he really wanted to tell him about everything that had happened these hot summer days, everything from the training to the Death Eater meetings, where he had been forced to watch enemies of the Dark Lord being tortured to death.  
And the spells he had learned…  
His thoughts wandered further, into a dark corner where something gravely suppressed rested, ready to awake and strike at any moment. His father and the basement…it was not really a part of him, was it?  
He had done his very best to separate it from himself, making it distant as if it had happened to somebody else. Only sometimes he could feel it like a disease, a stain impossible to remove, just like the Dark Mark. His father was under his skin and no matter how much time he spent trying to get clean in the shower, Lucius would not let him.  
The nightmares kept it real enough, even though daytime meant he could put a blanket over that scary corner of his mind. And the only thing helping him, waking up alone in the middle of the night with his father's voice still in his head, was those cuts on his arm...  
No. He did not want to think about that.  
Only Neville mattered now and for a little while he would allow himself to forget all about the heavy demands that followed with a Pure Blood family and pretend that he was somebody else.  
Somebody who could openly live with a Longbottom without risk or fear.  
The humming rising as all the noises outside floated together cradled him into sleep and pictures from Hogwarts came to life. He and Neville in the forest…

The quiet knocks on the door had him startled into the waking world and as he fought to rise and focus his gaze, a strange, but expected, voice came from the hallway.  
"It's me."  
"Yeah, I'm coming!" Draco shouted and paced to the door, fumbling with the lock and the key in his dizzy state. Finally, the wooden, thin door between them was gone and an unfamiliar boy stood outside, smiling to him in a warm and intimate way, as if they shared a really dirty secret.  
And they were.  
Draco grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him inside, before locking the door thoroughly.  
The boy was still smiling very fondly at him and as soon as Draco was done with the door, he turned to the visitor and flashed one of his most charismatic smiles back.  
He leaned against the door and waited. The stranger waited too.  
Finally, some auburn curls started to show in the boy's hair and the sharp facial lines shifted into softer ones, the golden freckles appearing on the cheeks as the dark, warm eyes unfolded from the waning potion.  
"Hi, Neville."  
Draco found he didn't know what to say next. He tried to restraint himself enough to handle some small talk, but all his system screamed for was the body before him that was his.  
Neville seemed to have grown taller. Or it was just the rare sight of him standing straight with an unusual and attractive self-confidence. Draco truly wished he knew what had happened during the Gryffindor's summer and even more, he wished he could have shared it.  
Neville gave a little laughter, his eyes shining with joy. Draco still couldn't believe that anybody could look so pleased to see him.  
"I can't believe it! Finally!" Neville sighed.  
"We need to be careful." Draco warned and took a step towards the Gryffindor.  
"Yes, I know!"  
"We have exactly four hours and then I have to be back!"  
"I _know!_ Come on, Draco! Let's use the time! How have you been, what have you been doing and…hmmh…"  
Draco had silenced the questions by throwing himself at Neville and made them both land on the bed with their mouths locked together. Neville's arms flew up to embrace him tightly and Draco almost ripped the Gryffindor's robes of in his desperate urge.  
Neville became hard within moments, responding to the rough strokes between his legs and as the garments were still stripped off, Draco led them away from the bed and into the small shower room, stumbling all the way from the intense kisses.  
Draco pushed Neville sternly into the shower cabin and made him face the wall. He turned the water on and had Neville jumping from the shock.  
"It's FREEZING!"  
"You'll be warm enough in no time!" Draco growled and grabbed his buttocks harshly.  
Neville made a small groan, revealing all the pleasure he took from the treatment. Draco ran his hand through the red hair and grabbed it all of a sudden to pull his lover's hair back.  
"Who owns you?" He hissed in his ear.  
"Y-you!" Neville gasped, jumping as Draco's other hand separated his buttocks and slammed two fingers inside.  
"O-ow!"  
"You'll do this for me, won't you, Neville?" Draco whispered in a smooth, silky voice. "I own you after all, don't I?"  
Neville gasped and moaned as Draco stabbed into him repeatedly and after only seconds, when they both were soaking wet from the water, Draco removed the fingers and placed his hard sex against the small opening.  
"Be brave now." Draco whispered sadistically.  
And he started to push inside Neville without preparing him. He did it inch by inch, carefully noting Neville's reactions with every movement.  
But Neville only urged him on, despite the pain that was evident in his face.  
"Oh, yes Draco, yes, do it, I want it, oh yes…!"  
With this confirmation he forced the entire length in and caught Neville's wrists to hold him pinned against the tile while taking him.  
Merlin, how he had longed for this!  
And Neville was so tight, as if he was a virgin once again. Draco would have to stretch him out again and he went to the task with great enthusiasm, pounding Neville hard against the wall to the beautiful sounds of his raptured screams.  
He noticed in the red haze of his lust how Neville snaked his hand in between the tile and his sex and started to please himself.  
"Yes, that's it Nevvy, do it for me!"  
It didn't take many seconds before they both climaxed and Neville's knees failed him the moment Draco drew out.  
He sank down on his knees on the wet floor and Draco followed him, moving close to put his arms around the trembling Gryffindor.  
The sat like that for a while, the water still pouring over them, and Draco kissed and stroked every inch he could reach of Neville. Finally, Neville turned around and gave Draco a tired but satisfied smile.  
"Just kill the water, will you?"  
Draco lazily reached for the tap and did as told. Then he rose and helped Neville to his feet as well.  
"The bed?"  
"You bet!"  
The water had cooled their skin of enough to make the close embrace between the sheets very comfortable. Draco could feel that he had just started with Neville and was merely buiding up for a sequel to the hot scene in the bathroom.  
"What have you done all summer?" Neville murmured from Draco's chest. "It's been terrible without you!"  
"What have _you _done?" Draco countered.  
Neville sighed.  
"I cannot tell you. Sorry."  
"I can't tell you either."  
"Oh."  
They were silent for a few seconds.  
Then Draco leant his head down to tongue-kiss Neville's ear and had his reward as his target squirmed and made very indecent sounds.  
"You could tell me." Draco suggested with his most seductive voice. "C'mon, it's just me."  
He moved his fingers playfully through Neville's hair and received a cynical smile in return.  
"If you tell me first."  
Draco smirked with superiority.  
"You're not in a position to negotiate."  
"No?"  
"No!"  
Draco pushed Neville over on his stomach and moved on top of him, rubbing his sex against the cleft between Neville's buttocks until they were both hard again. Neville sighed with pleasure as Draco touched his swelling organ and helped it grow.  
"Tell me, Neville."  
"It's not fair!" Neville protested with a shaky sigh. "Your methods are…despisable…"  
He seemed to lose track of his words when Draco turned him around and straddled himself right over his face.  
"Then you better do something more useful with your mouth."  
Neville caught Draco's organ with his tongue as it sank into him and sucked eagerly, moving his own hips up and down in frustration.  
"Go on." Draco said. "There will be no satisfaction until you've made me come."  
Neville whimpered softly at the words and worked harder, making Draco sigh with contentment and push deeper into the warm, wet mouth.  
Right now this rush was all that mattered and soon enough Draco wasn't sure that he would have pulled out even if the Dark lord had crashed into the room.  
He rode Neville's mouth harder, until the soft tongue made him release his seed on it. The ecstacy was intense and still the Gryffindor was like a drug in his veins, only making him want to go for more.  
He pulled out and stroked Neville's cheeks as he watched him swallow the white, slippery liquid and gasp for breath.  
Then their lips met again and Draco closed his hand around Neville's erection and squeezed very lightly, only to see him stir from it.  
"I want to watch you come." He ordered. "Get to it."  
And just as Draco had counted on, Neville blushed from the embarrasment despite all they had done together and started to please himself with his eyelids shyly dropped.  
Draco loved this. He loved to see the reactions he could cause by mere words and small touches, making the righteous little Gryffindor lose all dignity and control and hand it over to him.  
And Neville moaned and squirmed wantonly under him, soon forgetting himself in the throws of pleasure.  
Draco added a little help to the act by playing with Neville's prostate and biting his nipple until the climax had both their hands covered in warm wetness.  
Neville's cheeks glowed as he gasped and Draco kissed his damp forehead repeatedly and dropped down beside him.  
They kissed and caressed each other for a long time before drifting off to a light slumber.  
All the troubles Draco had that constantly weighed him down seemed to ease up and transform into thin air.

They weren't asleep for very long, but as Draco woke up, he swore that this was the most potent rest he'd had in months. Neville was scratching his back lightly as he returned to the waking world and kissed his nose and eyelids tenderly.  
"I don't want to leave! Can't we just run away?"  
He looked at Draco pleadingly.  
"They'll find me…us." Draco replied bitterly. "This is what we can have for now."  
"I'll find a way to fix this." Neville said stubbornly. "Maybe Dumbledore could fix the mark so that it didn't, you know, give off signals and…"  
"Dumbledore!" Draco burst out. "He can't find out about it!"  
"I think he already knows, Draco!" Neville argued. "He's quite sharp, you know! And the difference between Dumbledore and the others you hang with, is that Dumbledore genuinely cares for you!"  
"Not if he knew I had the mark!"  
Neville let out a loud impatient sigh.  
"Sometimes you really are a dumb blonde!"  
"What!"  
Draco rose on an elbow, offended and shocked.  
"Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, remember? He helped a lot of his former followers to be incorporated into society again and he protected them when those loyal to Grindelwald made desperate, final attempts to destroy those who left the dark Wizard's cause!"  
The Slytherin blinked, almost forgetting to be angry.  
"Where have you heard this?" Draco asked, his voice full of suspicion.  
Neville disarmed the situation by kissing his forehead with so much tenderness that Draco felt like crying suddenly, even if he suppressed it automatically.  
"You have to trust me." Neville whispered.  
Draco looked into his eyes for a long time.  
"I'd have to be where Potter is." He said finally. "I don't understand the idealistic cause of his followers, not to mention that I hate him!"  
Neville shot him a mischievous smile.  
"My butt is where he is!"  
Draco's eyes widened and as Neville burst into laughter at the face of the livid Slytherin, a fierce brawl started between the sheets, ending with Draco as the victorious part, sitting on Neville and holding his wrists behind his back, while spanking his buttocks red.  
"Take that back!"  
Neville laughed and moaned from the pain in turns until Draco made him take it back and by then they were both hungry for intimacy again.  
Heated kisses escalated into fingers in Neville's sore opening and this time Draco prepared him before entering, knowing that the dry penetration earlier must have hurt like hell.  
The act was much slower this time and Draco savoured every second of it, not knowing when his dark and cold existence would have such a break again. He had no idea how he would make it the rest of the summer without Neville. The past month had been absolutely horrible and he could not even think about the remainder now that he had it comfirmed what Neville meant to him.  
The thought about their impossible future was too cruel even for Draco to dwell on for too long.  
He wasn't alive without Neville. And if they hadn't found each other, well, then he would never have known that he was something else than what his parents had designed.  
The subject about the different sides they belonged to wasn't touched again and as their time together ran out all too soon and they both had to swallow the prepared Polyjuice potions, Draco just knew that an abyss was opening under his feet and very soon he would be forced to jump to one side of the rift.  
And what it meant, he tried to suppress for all he was worth.  
A quick embrace was all they had before Draco had to leave the room under his false identity.  
"Draco…" Neville breathed against his robe, before letting him go.  
Draco touched his cheek for a second and looked him in the eyes. Then he ran down the stairs quickly, knowing that it would have been impossible to leave if he had stayed a second longer.

It had grown dark by the time Draco returned to the secret hideout where he was trained, the Wiltshire Castle. This worn down old dwelling was only a mile away from Malfoy Manor and The Dark Lord visited it frequently, holding most of his Inner Circle meetings there. The castle was the property of the Malfoy Family and originated from the thirteenth century. Draco found most of the steep stairs and dark rooms very uncomfortable and it did not help that restless spirits from the murdered and tortured victims in the castle's basement had started to roam around the place.  
Draco had received Death Eater Nott as a mentor at the beginning of summer, which meant that there was no time at all for personal space if Nott could help it. Draco had been drilled and pushed to the limit in everything from the Darkest Magick from the Carpathian highlands to outright physical destruction, with torture and battle techniques.  
The opportunity Draco had been granted to visit London on his own had been hard won, through perfectly feigned fanatism that led Nott to believe that he wished to see Grindelwald's skull as it was on exhibition in a dark cellar below _Burgin and Borke's_.  
He climbed the stairs to his small room in one of the towers, knowing that there would not be a lot of rest before he was called down for the nightly allegiance-swearing to the Dark lord and then supper.  
He never got that far.  
"Draco!"  
The familiar voice behind him had the blood freezing spontaneously in his veins. His heart probably missed a beat as he turned and watched Lucius stand by the foot of the stairs.  
A smirk played in Lucius' face, made inhuman by the strange light from the torches. For a wild moment, Draco thought that this was a ghost who had come to haunt him. But his father looked solid enough and waved his hand in an inviting gesture.  
"Father." Draco said, his voice sounding hollow and mechanical.  
"Come here, Draco."  
Draco walked down to Lucius, taking each step with great caution. When they stood in front of each other, the older Malfoy simply drew Draco into a close embrace. Draco was shocked and terrified, his heart working itself up and his body tensing like a piano string.  
But Lucius smiled down at him as he released his arms.  
"I am very proud of you, Draco. Mr Nott has told me about your engagement in the Cause. And I have a special surprise for you."  
Draco took a small step back, not wishing to receive any special surprises at all.  
"Let's go." Lucius said and Draco followed obediently in his footsteps, still disbelieving the nightmare.  
"When did you arrive here father?" He asked carefully, as they walked down the narrow hall to the courtyard.  
"Oh, very recently. I thought about surprising you in London, once I heard you were there, but I just arrived from it and decided to wait here instead."  
Draco glanced up at Lucius, his head still filled with questions.  
Lucius gave a short, cold laugh.  
"I guess you wish to know about my release from Azkaban?"  
Draco nodded and swallowed.  
"Yes father."  
"The dementors has left Azkaban and joined the ranks of the dark Lord. I must say they were a most useful shield to carry on the way out. And they have no doubt fed enough on the way down here from the cold lands to be sated for now."  
Draco had a chill down his spine. He knew what 'fed' meant and wondered what poor souls that had dared to block the way of these dark monsters.  
The two Malfoys crossed the courtyard and Lucius opened the creaking door to the old dungeons and held it up for Draco.  
"Come inside."  
Draco stared into the pitch darkness and then shot his gaze over to his father, having a sinister flashback about a certain basement in their own house.  
But Lucius waved his wand and a row of torches along the steep stairs were lit.  
"Now!" Lucius ordered.  
The impatient look on his father's face made Draco gather all his courage and start to climb down the stone steps.  
Lucius followed close behind him and as they reached the nether corridor and Draco could hear other people talking in a nearby room, he relaxed a little.  
But he knew Lucius was the inofficial master of the domain and could use this as much as he wished.  
Finally, they came to halt by a small door that seemed to host at least two other people, judging from the conversation inside. He recognised his mother's voice immediately and drew a sigh in relief.  
He opened the door and stepped in and Lucius followed him and shut the door.  
Narcissa and another female Death Eater, well known for extreme cruelity in interrogation sessions, stood in front of a prisoner, who was hanging from a chain in the low roof with it's wrists in chackles. It looked badly beaten and bruised, blood trickling from its mouth and nose.  
Narcissa looked up at them as they entered the room.  
"Draco." She said and smiled, ignoring Lucius completely.  
Lucius did the same and turned to Draco instead with an all too friendly voice.  
"I apparated from London with a trophy that will please the Dark lord very much." He explained. "This one is an active member of Dumbledore's resistance and it will be a question of very little time before he tells us everything he knows."  
Both his parents gazes were upon him in expectation and watchfulness.  
But Draco wasn't looking at them anymore.  
He stared at the prisoner, who he finally recognised as Neville.

**Next: The end chapter!**


	21. The Stand

Greetings to everyone and I must declare that we've finally reached the last chapter of this, hem, stormy love story.  
First, as usual, I'll thank the nice reviewers who has stayed with me through the story and acknowledged their opinions to me. You've helped me to become a better writer. Thank you! (Great hug)  
And, some personal comments:

**Berylia-Crystalia:** You really know what a review means to a poor writer. Thank you for taking your time and sending some sunshine into an ordinary day.  
**WOW!** Or whatever you really like to be called, you mysterious reviewer. Thank you for reading both stories and liking them. Your enthusiasm was much appreciated!  
**Desiree K Troy: **I like how you've stayed with me and given me good criticism mixed with flattering compliments and letting me know stuff that's very valueable to a writer. Great hugs to you, love!  
**Fanfictionfan: **You've given lot of wondrous feedback and once you wondered if I'd thought about posting my stories somewhere else. Where did you mean? I'm a fanfic-virgin, sort of. If you have a suggestion, please leave it in a review. (Did you note how I tried to steal a review for free now?)  
**Asininefreakshow: **You are too cute, being upset for the lack of response! I am extremely flattered and if the story is that good, maybe I should have done better if I had not published the first eight or ten chapters at once. And then trying to spread the word of this story to your friends…I love you! Kisses and hugs!  
**Wyte choklate** and **Sisithewestwitch: **I have no idea whether you still read this story or not, but still: THANK YOU so much for reviewing faithfully at the beginning and giving me courage to go on. You're support has been priceless. Kiss on cheek to you both!

And now you've been waiting far too long for the end to come. And here it is, like it or not. Enjoy your reading and love to you all! And PLEASE, PLEASE since this is the last chapter: PLEASE review and let me know if you liked the story or not. A few words are all it takes and I will be delighted and if you like, even answer you in a bonus 'chapter'.

Love Redfern!

**CHAPTER TWENTYONE: THE STAND**

_And though you hold the key to ruin  
__Of everything I see  
__Though my kingdoms turn to dust  
__and fall into the sea  
__It means nothing to me  
__I'm mad about you  
_-Sting-

Two hours, twenty three minutes and thirteen seconds had past since Draco saw Neville in the basement.  
He was up in his room now, sitting on the bed as if he was fixed in stone.  
Everything he had possibly thought an effort before was ridiculous and easily smashed to dust by a wave of the hand.  
This had been a true effort, shaping his mouth into a cruel smirk as he saw his lover badly beaten and in chains in the small room. He had not dared to cast even one glance at Neville's eyes in fear of doing something that would have them both killed in an instant.  
It had been even harder to turn to his father with a grateful smile, before looking at his mother with cold, pleading eyes, the way he had done when he was a child and wanted something, and asked to be a part in the interrogation.  
They had been very doubtful at first, but Draco had argued well in front of the other Death eater about Neville's weakness for him and how this could help the answers to spill out faster.  
Now he had at last been granted to be present, as the torture session started in thirtyseven minutes.  
He had no idea about what to do.  
His mind was working and overloading itself to find a solution to the horrifying, unbelievable situation. Somehow he had to fix it, he had to get Neville out, but how it was to be done in a castle crawling with Death eaters was an impossible enigma to solve.  
He sat like that for a few more minutes, before he made his final decision.  
There was no use in waiting for the interrogation and then try to act. Dangerous people would be present and compose a deadly threat to them.  
The one slim chance that was not really a chance was now, before the Death Eaters made their way down to the cell.  
He knew they would probably die trying to break out from the castle, but then again, he knew they would kill Neville when they were done with him and his father would most likely have the honour.  
Draco rose from the bed and put his Death Eater robe on, not to alert anybody about something out of the ordinary. He made sure his wand was easily reached and walked out, closing the door behind him without looking back.  
He might as well die with him, trying to escape. There was no way he would survive without Neville anyway.

Just as Draco had counted on, most of the Death Eaters had drawn back to meetings and rest, just like they always did after the allegiance oath and supper. The corridor in the dungeons was empty as he made his way down there. Strangely enough, he seemed to grow stronger with each step, as new energy was surging through his veins the moment he had made his decision.  
He had been absolutely blind before!  
The door to the interrogation room was easily opened with a normal unlocking spell and Draco walked in and shut the door quietly before making a strong locking spell on it.  
He snuck up to the half unconscious Neville and felt a stab in his stomach as he saw the cruel marks of a whip on his arms and the parts of his back that was visible through the battered shirt. At least they had left his clothes on and Draco knew exactly why. It would have been so much more frightening for Neville if the interrogation had started with a complete strip down.  
Draco reached out a hand and touched his cheek carefully. Neville stirred and snapped his head up with a faint groan to see who the new torturer was.  
His eyes filled with tears as he saw who it was and Draco could not watch it.  
"Stop that, Neville! We're getting out of here!"  
He threw a spell at the chain to make the shackles open up and they did, causing Neville to fall to the floor. Draco caught him and wrapped his arms around the wounded Gryffindor carefully and placed a kiss on his forehead before trying to decide how he could support Neville on the way out.  
"Draco…" Neville started.  
"Yeah, I know. I've been a total idiot! But don't worry! I'll get you out. I don't care what they do to me, whatever happens we'll face it together!"  
Neville gave him a weak smile and such an admiring gaze that he was ready to turn the Dark Lord upside down and shake him if he could only have that once again.  
But for now, turning the castle upside down would have to do.  
Draco unfolded a death eater robe under his own robes and handed it over to Neville.  
"Put this on. It will improve our chances dramatically."  
"I'm not wearing it."  
"Neville…!" Draco rolled his eyes and gave him a stern accusing gaze.  
"Nope!"  
"I'm betraying all my beliefs for you! Now, would you have the courtesy, for fuck's sake, to wear this fucking robe?"  
Neville stared back at him with dark eyes, but he did as told and showed a surprising backbone despite his wounds, insisting on walking beside Draco with only his arm around the Slytherin's shoulders for support.  
"Let's go then." Neville said, his voice determined despite its weak state.  
Draco drew his wand out and squeezed Neville's hand lightly before opening the door with another spell.

The corridor was empty, but Draco could hear voices from another room and stood still for a few seconds to identify every move made behind that door.  
Then he decided to go for it.  
Neville was halting and Draco grabbed him by the waist and lifted him every now and then when they progressed too slowly. Small stops were essential, trying to pick up dangerous sounds, but nobody broke their escape through the cold dungeons and Draco started to help Neville to the first step of the stairs leading up and out, when a door behind them creaked.  
Draco spun around with his breath caught in his throat.  
Lucius was behind them, his wand ready and his serious gaze told Draco they were in mortal danger.  
"I knew you would do it." His father said, his voice monotone like it was when he was so angry, no shouting in the world would have made it justice.  
Draco squeezed his wand tightly and heightened it slowly in a defensive position, while drawing Neville nearer with the other hand.  
"Drop your wand, I'm warning you!" Lucius reprimanded him.  
Draco swallowed.  
"No." he managed to say, very calmly, even though his hands were shaking.  
"I love you, Neville." He whispered.  
And then he waved his wand in the speed of lightning to cast a knockout-spell.  
But Lucius was quicker and in a heartbeat he was on the floor screaming in pain from the most wicked _cruciatius _curse he had ever received.  
Neville shouted his name somewhere in the fogs of torture, but Draco couldn't see him. The pain was blinding and overwhelming as if he experienced his last stirs before death and it ceased so suddenly that Draco almost thought it was really death itself that had invaded him.  
But as he opened his eyes and glanced up with his head spinning, he saw Lucius standing without his wand, displaying a furious snarl. Neville held Draco's wand and stood his ground impressively steady, while staring back with utter defiance.  
"Don't move!" Neville shouted.  
"Or else what, you worthless trash!" Lucius snarled back. "You'll throw another _expelliarmus _at me?"  
Lucius dived for his wand while Neville waved Draco's wand desperately.  
"_Accio Wand!"  
_At that moment several things happened at once. The door upstairs opened and Nott and Snape entered, both having their wands ready in an instant. Lucius caught his wand as it flew through the air and Neville was disarmed in the blink of an eye and flew back as two powerful spells struck him at once. One of the intruders upstairs had obviously helped Lucius.  
"NEVILLE!"  
Draco tried to rise but failed.  
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Nott barked.  
"FUCK YOU!" Draco shouted back at him, feeling all his suppressed emotions explode out against the hated mentor.  
"You'll pay for that, right after your pathetic Gryffindor!" Lucius hissed.  
Both Nott and Snape blocked the doorway upstairs and all the ways to escape was cut off. This was it, then.  
Lucius heightened his wand and pointed it at Neville.  
"NOOO!" Draco screamed and forced his legs to move. But it was too late.  
A green light was erupting from Lucius wand and at that very moment Nott hit Draco with another powerful _Crucatius _and had him loosing his footing again as the spell was irreversibly pronounced.  
"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"  
_A green light was the last thing he saw before the dark spots filled his sight and then it stopped.  
It was dark.  
His sight came back gradually and for a moment he thought it was Narcissa who stood where Lucius had been, her wand giving off small green sparks.  
Then he realised that it was.  
His father laid with his face down and Draco realised his legs were locked by Lucius' heavy body.  
He heard Nott start to say something and then there was a quiet thud and the sound of a body falling down the stairs.  
He turned his head, even though it was horribly painful and stared up as Snape slowly made his way down the steps. Nott lay unmoving with open eyes only inches from Draco. Then he turned to Neville and saw his lifeless body resting on the cold stone floor.  
"Oh no, he's not dead, he's not dead…!"  
Narcissa gave Draco an apologizing smile, as if she had just spilled some beetroot soup on a new, expensive tablecloth.  
"Forgive me, Draco dear." She said, sounding like the perfect diplomat if it wasn't for the strange edge of ice in her voice. "We'll fix you a new and much better father, I promise!"  
"B-but…!" Draco started and then he gave of a scream as he tried to move. At least one rib was broken and the sharp pain made it hard to breath.  
He gasped to get some air in, but it was useless.  
"The rib must have stabbed into something inside him." He heard Snape said as the world grew whiter and whiter. "We should move him to competent healers before it's too late. I suggest…"  
And then everything drowned in bright snow.

When Draco woke up again, it was very quiet.  
It was soft and comfortably warm all around him and he could not feel any pain. When he opened his eyes, he was in a wide bed and his torso was wrapped in linen stripes.  
And a warm body laid beside him, snoring.  
He lowered his gaze and saw the familiar red curls imbedded in a large soft pillow.  
This couldn't be for real. Had he dreamed everything?  
Or maybe he was dead and this was his reward for standing up for himself and Neville in the end. But did dead people need bandage?  
He reached a hand out and touched Neville's shoulder carefully. He felt feverishly hot and alive.  
He took a deep breath. Then another.  
He couldn't even recognise the room he was in. It looked very unfamiliar to the surroundings Draco were used to and some sunlight streamed in from an open window, making the half transparent curtains move softly to the warm breeze.  
Neville started to move a little beside him.  
"Hi, Draco." He murmured sleepily.  
Draco reacted by throwing his arms around Neville and kissing him all over.  
Neville responded to it by moans and sighs, entwining his fingers in Draco's hair. Then he put his hands on Draco's chest and pushed them apart carefully.  
"Behave, Malfoy!" He whispered with a mischievous smirk.  
"But you were dead!" Draco gasped. "And I don't know where we are now! This might be…"  
"…Grimmauld Place 12." Neville filled in, caressing Draco's cheek tenderly. "We're safe, Draco!"  
Draco still felt completely at a loss, as if everybody in the world had been informed about something that he had been left outside of.  
"What is Grimmauld place?" He said, full of suspicion. Then another thought struck him. "Wait a second! Am I dreaming this?"  
Neville stared at him with his mouth half opened for a second and then he smiled widely, as if he tried to stifle his laughter, seeing Draco's frown and paranoid gaze.  
"No Draco. It's real. Feel this!" Neville drew his hand down under the covers and pressed it against Draco's crutch. Draco couldn't help but smirk viciously and sneak his finger in between Neville's buttocks.  
"So, you're trying to be cheeky, are you?"  
And then the door opened and Dumbledore stepped in.  
Draco gave out a loud cry, drawing the cover up to his chin very quickly as both their hands left each other. Neville's face was bright red in no time at all.  
"Oh dear!" Dumbledore said, correcting his glasses. "Maybe I did not knock loud enough?"  
"W-what are you doing here!" Draco demanded, shocked and shaken by the surreal entrance.  
As Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, Snape stepped in and stood beside him suddenly, by the foot of the bed.  
"He saved your lives." Snape replied, in a calm but reproaching voice.  
"What?"  
Draco looked at Dumbledore, who was now smiling kindly and then at Neville. Everybody in the room seemed to understand the situation. Obviously, Draco was the only one finding it strange to have Dumbledore and Snape in the room, as he was about to take Neville.  
Nobody seemed to be kind to his confusion!  
"Draco, relax!" Neville tried. "This is a secret place where Dumbledore's followers are!"  
"But…what am I doing here then?" Draco demanded. "And professor Snape…!"  
Dumbledore heightened a hand to plead for silence and Draco cut his sentence off. Snape looked tired like he always did in that special way, whenever the matter about Draco and Neville was in the limelight.  
"You were brought here by Professor Snape and your mother." Dumbledore explained. "You were both severely wounded and had to attain special care. How fortunate it was, that Fawkes were in the house with me!"  
"Fawkes?" Draco asked.  
"A Phoenix." Neville added.  
"Okay…?"  
Snape seemed to grow impatient and took over from Dumbledore.  
"The _Avada Kedavra _your father was about to cast never erupted, as you can see. However, the _Crucatius _curse had done lethal damage on you. Your mother also made herself guilty of a high treason, by putting an important ally to the Dark lord out of play. Hence, she is here with us."  
Draco felt a strange twist in his stomach.  
"My father. Is he…?"  
"He is." Snape replied, watching him carefully under a mask of perfect calm.  
Draco reflected over it for a second. He had no idea how to react and he wasn't sure about what he felt. It just seemed too unreal, nearly impossible.  
Then he looked at Snape.  
"But you are here."  
"Yes."  
Snape fixed a stern gaze on him.  
"Oh, I get it." Draco said tiredly. He put his hand to his forehead. "I should have guessed."  
"Well, you didn't." The potion's master snapped. "Unfortunately, you were too occupied with other things, slowing the process of your brain down…"  
"There, there, Severus." Dumbledore said, using his parental voice against the dreaded teacher. "There is no need for harsh words. After all, we have something to celebrate. Dear Molly is baking a wondrous lemon cake, which happens to be my favourite one. But first, I must ask to speak to young Malfoy in private."  
Snape nodded and swept out of the room. Neville wrapped one of the covers around him and held Draco's hand for a short moment.  
"It's okay." He said.  
Then he left the room too and Draco was alone with Dumbledore.  
Not until four hours later, Neville was let into the room again. By then, both Snape and Narcissa had taken turns to talk to Draco in between Dumbledore's sessions and as the Gryffindor entered the room, he was greeted by a relieved pair of grey eyes, looking more alive than Neville had ever seen.  
"Thank Merlin it's you!" Draco murmured.He was still in bed, seated with his back against the thick pillows. He was paler than usual but still there was contentment in his face that had never been there before.  
Neville smiled and jumped into the bed, curling up next to Draco with his head close to his heart.  
"How are you?" He asked, carefully glancing up at the sneering Slytherin.  
"I'm stuck here." Draco muttered. "Mother has switched sides, so that she won't have to finance the Dark Lord's schemes with her part of the heritage and I have inherited half the family fortune."  
Neville looked up at him for a second.  
"Your mother is so cool." He said, barely hiding the admiration in his voice.  
Draco raised an eyebrow cynically.  
"Dumbledore says I'll have to chill out here for a while and then it looks like I'm going to join the rebellious activities." He looked back at Neville with a hint of accusation. "Just like you!"  
Neville blushed slightly.  
"I'm sorry Draco, but I couldn't say anything! I had promised to keep it a secret! And I did not know anything until this summer, when they picked me up on the station."  
"Anyway." Draco continued. "That Weasley woman was in here with dinner and it was really simple and unprofessionally cooked. I hated it!"  
But Neville could se him trying to hide a smile while saying it.  
He reached up to kiss Draco's lips and he was answered really softly and tenderly.  
"I think there's something between Professor Snape and your mother." Neville whispered. "You should see them outside. They fight a little too much, just like you and I did."  
"Oh Neville, PLEASE!"  
Draco looked disgusted and Neville laughed, but he got serious in a heartbeat.  
"You said the 'L' word down in the basement." He said.  
"What?" Draco looked stunned.  
"You said you loved me, Draco. You used the 'L' word!"  
"I didn't express it that way exactly."  
"Yes, you did!"  
"No, I said something more like, 'I really care about you, Neville'!"  
"Really care about me?" Neville frowned with an amused smile. "What sort of soapy novel did you pick up that from?"  
"I didn't say 'care', then! I said…!"  
Neville burst into laughter again and couldn't stop. Draco attacked him indignantly and it turned out Neville would have great difficulties in sitting properly for an entire week.

**-THE END-**


End file.
